Missions of the Retrieval Team - The Girl with the Silvery Smile

[starbkjrus]

I'm just loving this one.

I'm waiting to see if Wompet gets to sink his teeth into Grant's supple yet firm, round buttocks. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Perhaps that was not called for. Or perhaps it was.

[ccga3359]

Listen, I'm willing to give up Big Mikey and come over to the losing team if I get a cool bird name. I'm thinking that because I'm originally from England that this would be a cool name, or as I'm currently freezing my rubber chicken off here in Canada that this would be more appropriate. Oh crap! Did I just give away my location?

[Livingston]

Listen, I'm willing to give up Big Mikey and come over to the losing team if I get a cool bird name. I'm thinking that because I'm originally from England that this would be a cool name, or as I'm currently freezing my rubber chicken off here in Canada that this would be more appropriate. Oh crap! Did I just give away my location?

We were thinking something more along the lines of this.

[ccga3359]

We were thinking something more along the lines of this.

D'oh !

[Panache]

We were thinking something more along the lines of this.

"He's a dodo, no no didn't hear it from me
He's a dodo, no no didn't hear it from me"


David Bowie

[Kilted_John]

Dee,

Ohhh, it was...

-J

[Erisianmonkey]

Uh-oh. Grant is trying to take over. Okay, now with all the pockets in the ranger vest, the multi-pocket camo kilt and the Nightstalker sporran, just where the zark did I put that tazer?

[Erisianmonkey]

Sorry y'all got shot. Greg, I've got your back when you get even. Seeing as how I used to write horror stories, I may even have a good revenge idea or two for you...
Then again, some of those are not only not suited to a family forum or polite company, they're probably not even suited to impolite company.

[davedove]

Scene 32


Pearson International Airport, Toronto, Canada


We had loaded everyone onto the truck and driven to the airport. Ms. Falcon made a point to stick to less traveled streets, since the appearance of the bullet-ridden truck may have caused a bit of concern.

Ms. Starling took charge in loading everything onto our jet. Since I was wounded, I remained with the truck to guard Grant. The security men moved Mr. Loon to the jet, while Ms. Stork kept watch over him.

Although it was night, the airport was still lively with the normal sounds of an airport. Engines were running and lights were flashing. I suppose that is why we all missed what was heading in our direction.

I mentioned before that Big Mikey is a large man and that he can build up a lot of momentum. Unfortunately, this time I was subjected to his entire force. He struck me from behind, throwing me off the truck. Even if I hadn’t been wounded, I would have had a hard time regaining my feet after that strike.

I turned to see what was happening. Big Mikey had helped Grant to his feet and they were both running away from the truck. It was then that I noticed the large object above us. A large blimp was moving over us. It had no lights and apparently had cut its engines before floating over our position.

Now the operators of the blimp started its engines again and turned on the lights. One set of lights revealed a large red maple leaf on the side of the airship.

More lights along the bottom of the blimp shone directly below, illuminating a rope ladder that had been lowered. Grant and Big Mikey were running to this ladder.

From behind I heard people running and turning I saw the security men and my associates giving chase, with Wompet in the lead.

The two men reached the ladder. From the top of the ladder, I saw a form cloaked in shadows. When the two men had grabbed the ladder, I heard him call out, “We’ve got them. Take us up MacHummel!”

The airship began to rise, lifting the two men on the ladder. Wompet, only a few feet behind them dove for the ladder, but passed just inches below it.

Those who had been chasing the two men stopped and drew weapons, prepared to fire on them.

“Hold your fire!” I called to them. “Let them go. We’ll deal with them another time. We’ve got a wounded man to take care of.”

As the airship continued to rise, I heard Grant call out. “YOU FOOLS! YOU CANNOT HOLD ME! BY MY GORGEOUS, FLOWING, GOLDEN LOCKS AND FIRM ROUND BUTTOCKS YOU WILL NEVER HOLD ME! HA HA HA HA HA HA!” he cackled madly.

I turned to Mr. Splash. “Golden locks and firm buttocks?” I asked.

“I’ll explain on the flight,” he said.

[davedove]

Scene 34


Great Hall of X Marks the Scot


We had sat through the ceremony where a few honors were awarded. Livingston and myself were both awarded the Golden Thistle for the wounds we had received on the mission.

All the members of my team, the security men, Livingston, Erisianmonkey, and even Wompet were awarded the League Commendation Medal for our participation in the mission.

One award was given out that had nothing to do with the mission. McClef was awarded the Order of the Grand Defender of the Kilt for his long and outstanding service to the members of the forum.

As the ceremony was winding down, everyone was enjoying the refreshments provided. People were gathered in small groups making idle conversation. I noticed that Ms. Hawk and Mr. Mender were spending a fair amount of time together. I really wondered what was going on, as the two of them were revealing parts of their body to one another. I quit worrying though, when I realized that they were sharing battle stories and showing off their scars. They really were kindred spirits.

The chaplain, Prestor John, came up to me and whispered in my ear. When I heard what he had to say, I realized that Ms. Wren needed to hear it too.

We walked over to her together. “Ms. Wren,” I said, “the chaplain needs you to come to the infirmary immediately.”

“Why,” she said, “What’s wrong?”

“Just please, come with us.”

We made our way down to the infirmary. Ms. Wren seemed to grip the chaplain’s arm tighter with every step. We approached the door to where her husband was being kept.

“I think you should go in alone,” Prestor John told her. His voice was deadly serious.

Ms. Wren slowly walked to the door. She hesitated when she grasped the knob. She glanced over at us with worry.

“Go ahead,” said the Chaplain. “You need to see this.”

When Ms. Wren turned back to the door and turned the knob, the chaplain looked at me. His face lit up in a smile and I couldn’t stop my own smile.

Ms. Wren hadn’t seen our smiles when she opened the door. As the door opened into the room though, she let out a squeal of joy.

There on the bed was Celtic Menace. He was sitting up in the bed, reading a magazine.

Ms. Wren ran to him and took him in her arms. We could tell that her crying was from pure joy.