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“In other news, a large secret faction of drug runners and illegal distributors of small arms was taken down today. Once again with the help of the same unknown informant who brought a corrupt oil tycoon to his knees, the police managed a raid on the site with no police injury, three of the criminals were killed.”

“So far there has been no leads as to who this mystery informant is but as far as the public is concerned, he or she is a angel of grace for society. John Rapugsty, AWI news, Orlando.....”

The screen blipped out with a faint hiss, fading the face into a deep black. The stranger sat at the edge of the bed, a laptop on his lap and the remote in his left hand. With a sigh he tossed to black remote to the carpeted floor and resumed working. He was a well built man strong and tough. But a certain air of kindness floated around the look, softening his countenance. He was wearing a loose fitting pair of jogging pants and a sleeveless shirt. Stubble was growing to a considerable length, revealing the amount of time that he had been working. He moved his fingers lightly over the keyboard, typing in commands and script as his sky blue eyes darted from the screen to look at the yellow paper on the bed.

‘What a day’ he thought to himself as he finished the last code. He leaned back as he watched the virus he just planted course through the files of a rich Insurance firm, sucking in all of the information that he needed. After a few short seconds, the small speaker beeped, signaling that the download of information was complete. He clicked the left mouse button over the burn CD icon and stood up as the CD burner copied the files onto the disk.

‘Really need some coffee, and a vacation.’ Moving to the small kitchen in the tiny apartment he poured himself a glass of old coffee. The smell was nearly unbearable, musty and sour. Tasting it he cringed at the bitterness, and moved back into bedroom. There his orange cat lay upon his pillow, comfortably content with where he was.

“Good morning, Malfious. You gonna let me sleep on there or what?” The tabby purred at him as he neared. “Fine then, we’ll share.” With some effort he lowered himself onto the small bed, resting his head next to the cat and stretching out his legs, making sure not to kick the laptop off the edge. He rubbed his eyes as the cat moved in closer to cuddle with him. “You know Mal, I think that it was about time that we took a much deserved vacation. Don’t you?” The cat, in almost reply purred even louder. The rhythmic sound caused the stranger to drift away in his thoughts of where they would go, Hawaii, no maybe California, yeah why not. “Were going to California Mal, how does that sound?” He couldn’t tell whether or not the cat replied to the mumbled question, he had fallen asleep....

Airport terminal in Argentina, the smell of people a mix of sweaty body odor and someone’s over use of perfume created a throbbing wave of head splitting odors. He watched as terminal c slowly began to get more and more crowded. A small smile appeared on his handsome face, laughing inwardly at the masses that rushed to get from point A to point B and the fact that they don’t look around to see what else the world has to offer them. A different life, full of promises and love. A frown suddenly replaced the smile. At least that is what he sees in the world from where he is at. The world changes under his gaze but because of his position he can only watch and not become apart of the emotions and the depth of existence that these annoying little people with their identities have. An Identity is a privilege, a person that they own, that they build, just by living.

A sigh slowly escaped his lips as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. An identity is a luxury that he cannot enjoy, at least not until he accomplishes the task that he had set out to do, witch seemed to be getting only farther and farther away. The suit that he wore blended in with his surroundings causing him to nearly disappear from site. This is what he wanted, it was one of his travelling disguises, one of thirty. He had used this identity so many times before, that he actually knew people here on staff at the airport who knew him by that name. Spotting his terminal, the stranger moved into the steady flow of human traffic. As he neared he saw a strange group of men dressed in jeans and T-shirts of some type, varying between one another. There were six of them, they all carried a sports bag and a back pack. The line slowly came to a halt as he neared the terminal, and could hear shouting ahead, some little man in a brown suit was cussing out the airport personnel about his rights or something like that.

Everyone was watching the little man scream his head off, except for the stranger who watched as the six men handed in their tickets to the distracted lady. Allowing them to enter the plane. He shook his head.

“I think too much.” The line finally started to move ahead. After he passed through the terminal the thoughts came back to him. Struggling he shrugged it off again, this was his vacation and he was going to enjoy himself.

After they were airborne a stewardess came up to him. She was well built and very attractive, the body of an athlete he surmised. She held out a menu for him to look at.

“Would you like something to drink sir?” The stranger thought for a moment before he made his reply.

“What do you like?”

“The cherry champagne is very good, but most don’t drink it. It is a dying favorite.” She smiled and he smiled back.

“I’ll have the cherry champagne then, Miss?”

“Thompson, and you are?”

“Tom Smith, it is very good to meet you Miss Thompson.”

The stewardess smiled and walked to the back to grab the champagne. As she passed he noticed the group of six men across the aisle up ahead they made crude remarks as the stewardess passed by, he decided to ignore them for as long as she could.

Reaching down he grabbed his laptop from the floor, opened up his scripting file, and began to type away. The little tack, tack noise could be heard by all of the people within three seats of him. The stewardess returned with his drink and handed it to him with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome, if you need anything just wave me over.”

“I will.”

Still smiling she turned and passed by the men from before, as she walked by one of the men he reached out and slapped her butt.

“Hey!” She smacked his hand away. “Watch it pervert!” Trying to move away from them, the man stood and grabbed her arm, a grin on his face. Shuffling backwards she stumbled over another mans foot and fell to the floor, letting out a small cry. The man only laughed and reached behind his back saying something in a foreign language to the others, he pulled out a long knife. The other men followed suit, and soon she was surrounded by six armed men, who were pushing other passengers out of their way. The first man reached for her and pulled her to her feet, the knife inches away from her throat. She knew he was going to do it and she closed her eyes for the blade to touch. But all she heard was a sharp “Thwak” and the mans grip released her.

There, holding the man in a choke hold was Tom the man she had given the champagne to. The other five men rushed him as he let the unconscious one fall to the floor. Circling to his right he avoided the first blade, then ducked under the next one. His foot shot out and hammered into the jaw of the first attacker, then he wheeled around to slam his elbow into the throat of the second. With a graceful twist Tom flicked out his fist and it slammed into the ribs of the next man, a loud crack could be heard just before the man crumpled to the floor holding his chest

The two last knife wielders held back, wondering about their attack. They were terrorists on a civilian plane, they didn’t expect that someone on board would be able to fight back.

The men circled around Tom, trying to open him up so they could penetrate his defense. Tom’s mind raced with tactics and angles. He noticed how the two men had managed to trap him and cut off his escape. They knew what they were doing, obviously had some experience.

Switching his guard, he brought his right foot forward, hands open and in front, crouching low. Waiting for an opening. Trying to move forward his front foot stuck to something sticky and he leaned into an awkward position.

‘Stupid!’ His mind screamed as the first attacker lunged for the opening. Instinctively he dropped, the blade whistling over his exposed skull. Rolling out onto his feet, he felt a sheering pain along his shoulder. Fast, they were upon. With lightning speed he trapped the first one, then felt the other, rake his blade across his back. The pain instantly numbed.

‘Enough” Sliding back, he lifted his foot and with lightning force he slammed his foot down onto the trapped man’s knee. The pop could be heard throughout the plane cabin. Grabbing the man’s knife hand he spun it until the joint had locked, then with tremendous force he yanked. The elbow first, then the shoulder popped loose. With a scream the man crumpled to the floor unconscious from the pain.

The second man was recovering from the momentum of the blow that he had dealt to Tom’s back and was unprepared. He felt the hand snake around his neck from behind and crank his head to the side. His knife hand was pulled straight with an Iron grip. Weight went onto the back of his knees pinning them to the floor, then with a sudden pull he felt his shoulder slip out of joint along with his right hip and left knee. A scream escaped his lips as the knife fell from his numbed hand.

Releasing the terrorist, Tom let him fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Looking around at the six men, either unconscious or groaning in pain he surveyed the damage. The only person that had been hurt aside from the Terrorists was himself. The whole ordeal had lasted for over thirty seconds.

He felt hands on his back and he spun. The stewardess was behind him.

“Your hurt, we must get you to first aid.” He brushed her hands softly away.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.” He looked at the six men on the floor. “We will need some rope though.” The stewardess nodded and rushed to grab some. The co-pilot came rushing back a look of concern on his face.

“Is anybody hurt?” An old woman shook her head, along with every one else in the cabin, even some of those in the neighboring cabins made a response. Tom slowly moved backwards to his seat trying to be unnoticed. The co-pilot stared at the six men on the floor as the stewardess came back with a handful of small rope pieces. She handed them to some of the men that were now holding some of the terrorists down. Looking up she looked for Tom but couldn't see him anywhere. The Pilots voice came over the loud speaker.

“Attention all passengers, given these events we are making an emergency landing in at another airport. So please find your seats and put your seatbelts on until we have landed shortly.” Still searching the crowd of people the Stewardess couldn’t find the man who had saved the plane. Even as they landed she could not find him anywhere. Moving down the ramp she studied everyone who went by, as they were being led away by the emergency personnel on the ground. When the last person exited the plane she sighed in confusion.

“Where could he have gone?” In the distance a young man wearing baggy clothes, sunglasses and had long blonde hair. Listening to a disc-man he smiled to himself.

“Chock one up for the Tracer.....”


------
Dreams that disturbe you when you sleep,
and haunt you when you are awake.
Make up a mirror of who and what you are,
spiritually.


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Comments

The following comments are for "Tracer"
by chill

Nicely done
Hey there,

The story moved along nicely and I was surprised that you used over 2,000 words. It read like a much shorter piece. Further, it was very detailed and descriptive.

Overall, it was a nice piece of writing with only the ending having room for improvement.

Later,

Richard

( Posted by: Richard Dani [Member] On: June 1, 2002 )

yeah it could
I geuss that I could have elaborated alot more in the ending. But it was getting really late and the ending just wouldn't come to me. Thanx for the compliments though:)

~Chill (0*0)

( Posted by: chill [Member] On: June 12, 2002 )

Niceness
I liked that one. It was very fast paced, very centered. It didn't have a lot of sub-plot, so you got to develop the protagonist a lot more than you normally would in a short piece. Good, I think.

( Posted by: Washer [Member] On: February 21, 2003 )





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