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    Well, I said I was writing a story and here is the Prologue.
    Enjoy my first work.


    Double-crosser

    Prologue

    ”General, the forces are on their way!” the young Colonel pronounced.
    Mikhail Sorentjov turned around and faced the colonel.
    “Good. They will never know what hit them.”
    Mikhail turned again and looked out of the window.

    His office, placed in the Old Tsarina’s Palace, overlooked the bustling metropolis of Moscow.
    The Tsarina Catherine was still in office but was a mere symbol that the Russian people felt attached to.
    Mikhail and his chief of staff were the real rulers. Together with Igor Kulishikov, the Russian prime minister, he had developed a scheme that would allow the Russian people, which was experiencing a boom in population, some relief, allowing new cities to be built.
    “Take this message to Prime Minister Kulishikov; the plan is on schedule. Will contact the others and fill them in on the rest. Sit back and enjoy the show. The dawn of the bear is upon the world.”

    Sorentjov nodded and the colonel then nodded in return, saluted and clacked his heels turned around on them and marched out out.
    Mikhail looked out of his window. From here he could see the soccer stadium. This weekend Lokomotiv Moscow was playing a match against their archrival Dynamo Kiev.
    Mikhail was a huge soccer fan.
    He had played a bit in his youth. He was still eager to play and would often join the soldiers at
    Ft. Basil when they played.
    He was looking forward to this weekends match.

    Meanwhile at the stadium the soccer team was practising.
    The coach called them all to him.
    “All right boys listen up; this weekend’s match is the most important match in thirty years. The Federation League winners are determined by the outcome of this match. It is the first timein those thirty years the winner has been determined by the last game in the season. So let’s finish off with a bang. Right?”

    All the players gave their consent with a slight nod or moan.
    “Great. Get back to your training.”
    All the players ran off while the coach went back to the dressing rooms.

    At the door were two suspicious looking men.
    “So is it all fixed?” one of them asked.
    “Yes they will do it. And what about the payment?”
    “Here is a briefcase with 7.6 million ruble, the equivalent of 250 000 US dollars. The rest will be wired to these five Roman banks accounts after the match. If the plan fails you will not receive that money but you will be able to keep these…and your life.” The other man said while handing the coach a briefcase and a little note upon which the bank accounts were written down.
    The coach was just about to turn around when the man said: “Remember, it is imperative that this succeeds. We might not get this kind of an opportunity for a long time.”
    The coach nodded and went on down the hallway to the parking lot.

    Al hung up the phone.
    “The preparations are complete.”

    “Excellent!” the person behind the huge desk said. “I am looking forward to this weekends match.”

    “So am I.” Al replied.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    So I made a few changes. Hope you think it's better this way.
    Thanks for the tips.
    Last edited by 88Ball; July 17, 2004, 12:31.
    Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

  • #2
    Well, I'm used to North American Football, so although I know you were talking about what I call soccer I still had a different image in my mind, whatever.

    My metaliturtlian advice for this story? 1. Characters with Russian names get confusing quick, especially with a lot right at the beginning, more detailed character descriptions are fairly useful, or you could use:

    2. More spacing, after a character speaks put a line break there, it just makes things easier to read and can do a lot to move your story along, honestly I won't read some stories where the dialogue is way hidden in big blocks of text. So instead of

    Al hung up the phone.
    “The preparations are complete.”
    “Excellent!” the person behind the huge desk said.
    “I am looking forward to this weekends match.”
    “So am I.” Al replied.

    You would get

    Al hung up the phone.
    “The preparations are complete.”

    “Excellent!” the person behind the huge desk said. “I am looking forward to this weekends match.”

    “So am I.” Al replied.

    These are just my suggestions to help you out because you said you were new, you don't have to use them, but I know they helped me out a lot.
    First Master, Banan-Abbot of the Nana-stary, and Arch-Nan of the Order of the Sacred Banana.
    Marathon, the reason my friends and I have been playing the same hotseat game since 2006...

    Comment


    • #3
      Originally posted by Metaliturtle
      Well, I'm used to North American Football, so although I know you were talking about what I call soccer I still had a different image in my mind, whatever.

      My metaliturtlian advice for this story? 1. Characters with Russian names get confusing quick, especially with a lot right at the beginning, more detailed character descriptions are fairly useful, or you could use:

      2. More spacing, after a character speaks put a line break there, it just makes things easier to read and can do a lot to move your story along, honestly I won't read some stories where the dialogue is way hidden in big blocks of text. So instead of

      Al hung up the phone.
      “The preparations are complete.”
      “Excellent!” the person behind the huge desk said.
      “I am looking forward to this weekends match.”
      “So am I.” Al replied.

      You would get

      Al hung up the phone.
      “The preparations are complete.”

      “Excellent!” the person behind the huge desk said. “I am looking forward to this weekends match.”

      “So am I.” Al replied.

      These are just my suggestions to help you out because you said you were new, you don't have to use them, but I know they helped me out a lot.
      and I will add my $0.02 worth, write your story up on maybe Microshaft Word and it will help correct grammatical errors as well. Plus you can write a little then go back and do some more and so forth

      Hope this helps and welcome to our little shop of horrors

      Gramps
      Hi, I'm RAH and I'm a Benaholic.-rah

      Comment


      • #4
        Thanks for the help.

        Well if you're getting confused with the russian names don't read on, there are a lot more to come. And French names. And probably other nationalities as well.
        About working on Microsoft Word, well I am. It's just I dont understand all the grammatical errors because the explanation is in german. And english grammar ain't so easy when you're only sixteen and from Denmark. But I ain't whining.

        I'll try to use your input to improve the story I have written so far.
        I am already at 8 pages so it'll be a long one.
        But i hope you'll like the rest the story
        Last edited by 88Ball; July 17, 2004, 12:19.
        Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

        Comment


        • #5
          Here is the first actual chapter in the story I have made a few cahanges to the original layout according to the advices i have received. I actually think it is better this way.


          Chapter 1

          “Welcome to the grand finale of an extraordinary football season. Still two teams are tied for the 1st place in the league here at the final match. It all comes down to this ladies and gentlemen!”
          Sorentjov heard the announcer publish the facts that the entire population of Russia was already aware of. Hell, most of the rest of the world knew this.
          Sorentjov now watched the two teams enter the stadium.

          Many thoughts were running through the mind coach Molotov of Lokomotiv Moscow.
          He had carefully instructed his offensive player to miss their first major chance of goal.
          He was hoping that despite this they would still win the game.

          Back in the V.I.P. lounge, Sorentjov was being informed of the risk of watching this match.
          “Sir, we would advice you not to stand up during any part of the match as you would make a larger target to any potential assassins. These advices are just for your own protection.”
          Sorentjov just nodded. He was too caught in the game that had just started.
          Moscow was completely dominating the play and had had a few distant shots at the goal.
          Suddenly, after a short trip to the middle line, the Lokomotiv offence stormed towards the Dynamo goal.

          The two men soaring above the game in a commercial blimp, wasn’t paying any attention to the game. Instead one of them was aiming a sniper rifle at Sorentjov. Still too small a target he was waiting for the signal

          The star player, Miskevic, the pride of Russian football, the captain of both the national team and Moscow, was passed the ball and was only a couple of yards from the goal. Remembering the coached orders he kicked the ball far past the goal.
          He tried to look disappointed.

          Sorentjov, enraged by this miss jumped up out of anger. Too late did he remember the advice given to him by his bodyguards and he was hit in the chest by a bullet. It was followed by another that embed itself in his shoulder and yet another that flew straight through his throat crushing part of his spine and continued into the hip of his one bodyguard. Few noticed the gunshots, in fact only the people that got glass shards, from the window which had been shattered by the bullets, in the head noticed.

          The General was declared dead immediately.

          Meanwhile in the blimp:

          “Three perfect hits, lets get out of here!” the shooter said to the other man, the pilot of the blimp.
          “Sure thing.” The pilot answered and navigated the blimp away.
          The shooter picked up a cage and opened it. He took out a pigeon and threw it out the window.
          A little piece of paper was attached to it one leg.

          Al crumbled up the note and threw it into the fireplace
          “One less worry in the world!” he said.
          He was watching the note flame up and turning gray, eventually drifting up through the chimney
          “Good. Move on to the next on the list.”

          -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

          Will be posting the next chapter anytime soon.
          Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

          Comment


          • #6
            Go hard lad

            Looking forward to some more

            indeed
            Gurka 17, People of the Valley
            I am of the Horde.

            Comment


            • #7
              YAY DENMARK!!! hehe I'm of Danish Descent... :-D
              First Master, Banan-Abbot of the Nana-stary, and Arch-Nan of the Order of the Sacred Banana.
              Marathon, the reason my friends and I have been playing the same hotseat game since 2006...

              Comment


              • #8
                Here's my second chapter, hope you'll like it.
                As i said there will be many more names to remeber and you get a bunch of them here. Enjoy


                Chapter 2

                Kulishnikov was standing at Sorentjov’s grave. All the others had left the funeral ceremony.
                “I’m sorry you wouldn’t live to see your plan unfold.” He told the tombstone.
                “And we can’t give any credit fro it unfortunately. Well, many artists are first appreciated after they are long dead.”

                He put his hat on again and headed for his car.
                He would have to appoint a new minister of defence. Perhaps that young General Stukov?
                He had proven to be a most competent strategist. And he had that innovative spirit that the Old Russian army generals lacked. It would require careful consideration. Meanwhile the troops were almost ready to commence the invasion. They could not use the excuse much longer.
                If this attack was to be a success he would have to hurry.

                Igor picked up the car phone and dialled Stukov’s number.
                “Aleksandr Stukov here!”
                “Yes, it’s Prime Minister Kulishnikov. I need to meet you at my office ASAP. When can you be there?”
                “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes Mr. Prime Minister!”
                “Good.”
                Igor hung up and ordered his driver to take him to his office.

                Ten minutes later Igor’s black limousine parked in front of the Russian Parliament.
                Igor walked up the stairs to his office.
                He opened the large chestnut door and entered his office.
                He went over to his desk and put his briefcase on the large table. He opened it and took out a very thick file. He placed it on the desk and sat down. He removed the two elastic strings that kept the file closed. He took up the first piece of paper and started reading.

                Operation “Sleeping Bear”

                Due to the latest shortages of many crucial resources, the Joint Chief of Staff has decided that the only action that can ensure the continued survival of the Russian people is to enforce resource rich land. The nearest and most eligible such land is the French province of Toulouse. Operation “Sleeping Bear” is a plan that requires the entire Russian Army cooperate in a single attack on French territory. Once the province of Toulouse is secured, the Joint Chief of Staff is to make assessments whether a continued act of force is required.

                Igor looked at the papers again.
                The entire file consisted of about thirty pages. It included a thorough analysis of the French Armee de Terre and its generals, an analysis of the Russian Army and the Russian Generals and detailed maps of the Toulouse Region.

                Then someone knocked the door.
                “Enter!” Kulishnikov shouted and saw a young man, probably in his early thirties, entering.
                He faced Igor, saluted him and said: “Aleksandr Stukov reporting for duty, Sir Prime Minister!”
                “At Ease General Stukov and thank you for being able to be here so quickly.”
                “No Problem, Sir Prime Minister.”
                “Good, well we have a lot to cover so please take a seat.”
                Stukov walked over to the two chairs in front of Kulishnikov’s desk, and sat down.

                “First I need to tell you that what I am a bout to tell you is classified. Top Secret.”
                Stukov nodded.
                “Before the Defence Minister was assassinated, he and I were working on a plan.”
                Stukov nodded and Kulishnikov sighed.
                “As you know the Russian population are growing at an incredible and continuingly accelerating rate. Soon there will be no more room for all the people. There is no room for more cities in Russia, so we need to ‘expand’ our borders. You following me so far?”
                Stukov nodded and said: “I think so Sir Prime Minister.”

                “Good. Well, what you don’t know is that we are, or were, planning to claim the French province of Toulouse by means of force. Toulouse itself is a small city and it would be well suited to the masses of Russian people. Also, the land surrounding the city is resource rich and would give us access to many vital resources.” Igor Kulishnikov paused

                “But do we have the military might to take Toulouse?” Stukov asked, thinking the prime minister had finished.
                “Of course we do. We have been building up our military since the Chinese Gulf War. Our military is currently at 25 million men. 4 million is already in neutral territory near Toulouse and another 11 million is on its way both by air and sea.”
                “I don’t understand do they know why they are there?”
                “No, no, no, no. They all think it is part of a training exercise. The largest training exercise in history. But we are just waiting for them to all be there. Then we will strike.”

                Kulishnikov paused and Stukov looked very thoughtful.
                “Aren’t we going to take any more than just Toulouse?” he then asked.
                “According to the mission statement we are to take Toulouse first, and then the Joint Chief of Staff will decide whether we will continue or not.” Kulishnikov took one more of his pauses. He liked pausing in conversation.
                “But unofficially I think I can say with certainty that we are going to take all of France. They won’t have a chance.” He continued.
                “But what are you going to tell the Russian people? You need a cause for this war don’t you?”
                “Yes, we do. But we haven’t figured out what it is supposed to be.”
                “Well, this is just a stray thought, but you could blame Sorentjov’s assassination on them.”

                Kulishnikov looked at this young man with amazement. Then he jumped up with excitement.
                “Brilliant! That is a brilliant idea. We blame the assassination on them and our troops were coincidently near France. It would be a righteous retaliation. Brilliant, Stukov that is brilliant.”
                Kulishnikov had a big smile all over his face.

                “Now I am sure I made the right choice.” He said, proud of his own judgemental abilities.
                “I beg your pardon Sir Prime Minister?” Stukov said, obviously puzzled.
                “Oh yes that reminds me. You are hereby appointed as Mikhail Sorentjov’s successor.”
                “Sir, are you saying that I’m…?”
                “Yes, you are now the new Defence Minister. You will be in charge of the entire operation.
                By the way, the operation is called ‘Sleeping Bear’. I hope you accept this appointment?”
                Stukov looked around the office not quite sure what to say. Then he uttered a surprised:
                “Yes Sir, Hell yeah!”
                Kulishnikov smiled back at the new Defence Minister.

                The next evening at the bar ‘The Leaping Fox’ in Orleans.
                Jean, André and Luc are all sitting at their regular seats, all three of them with a pint in their hand.
                “Hey you all heard of the Russian Minister of Defence being killed an’ all, right?” Luc asked them.
                They all, including the bartender Pierre, nodded.
                “Well, this afternoon, the prime Minister of Russia appointed the new Minister of Defence.”
                “So?” Jean said wondering what the hell the drunken encyclopedia Luc was about to say.
                Luc took a sip of his pint and continued: “Well, he is the youngest to be appointed minister of anything in Russia.”
                André, Jean and Pierre all laughed briefly.

                “What the **** do we care huh? We are just he to watch the game and drink beer, right?” André proclaimed looking at both Pierre and Jean.
                “Hear, hear!” they shouted and lifted their pints up.
                “Well, I just thought you *might* be interested in expanding your horizon.”
                “We don’t give a **** about the horizon!” André said and emptied is mug.
                “Ye want a refill o’ that?” Pierre asked nodding at the empty pint.
                “Nah, I better get home to the misses. It’s Friday if you know what I mean!” he answered with a grin on his face.
                “Yeah me too.” Jean said and drank the last of his pint as well. He put the empty mug and a few money bills on the bar.
                “Well, I guess I’ll just have one more pint and watch the last of the game then.” Luc said.
                “Sure thing Mr. Horizon!” Pierre laughed, took his mug and filled it up.
                “See you tomorrow at work guys!” Luc shouted at Jean and André on their way out.

                ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                That't it for me this time. To be continued......
                Last edited by 88Ball; July 18, 2004, 10:12.
                Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

                Comment


                • #9
                  Chapter 3

                  The next day Stukov and Kulishnikov were sitting in Stukov’s new office.
                  “Well, we should probably get a hold of the leader of the commission that was made to investigate Sorentjov’s assassination.” Stukov said
                  “Oh yes, judge Dornevskji. Well, he is an easily persuadable man. How do you intend to blame the French?”
                  “Well, we could say that the projectiles in Sorentjov’s body were, upon closer examination, French of origin. Or we could frame two French immigrants with the murder and produce evidence that they were acting under the French Government. There are a lot of options.” Stukov said sounding like he could come up with several more ideas.
                  “You are very resourceful my friend. I like both of you ideas. How about we combine them?”
                  “That could work. How about you put the Interior Minister on finding some eligible candidates and I tell the specialists at KGB to fabricate some files. How about we include some info on you too, so it would act like you are a future target?”
                  “Excellent. And the French ammunition ‘inside’ Sorentjov?”
                  “Well, I’m sure the Ambassador could acquire some. He should be able to have it by the Tuesday.”
                  “Great. I’ll schedule the revealing of the French assassination for Wednesday, just in case.”
                  “Agreed. Is that it?”
                  “I believe so.”

                  Meanwhile at Fort Kamchatka in eastern Russia

                  “All right, 112th Armour Division, start loading into the cargo planes!”
                  When Flight Officer Yuri Valentinov shouted the order the column of tanks in front of him started rolling into the Hercules cargo plane behind him.
                  “So when are we ready for take-off?” the man next to him, Pilot Ivan Zaitsev, said.
                  “As soon as the tanks are loaded into ours and Vladimir’s bird. He’ll air first and we’ll follow him.”
                  Yuri had become tired of Zaitsev from the first day they had service together. He was constantly impatient, yet he was always the last to be ready for take-off
                  “Why do we have to air second? He’s only carrying the 21st Engineering Division. Our troops are more important! We should get to air first!”
                  Yuri sighed. Another typical example of Zaitsev’s impatient personality.
                  “Listen Ivan, Just make sure you are ready to air when we have to all right. I haven’t forgotten about Minsk!”
                  “Come on, it was the only time I have been twenty minutes late.”
                  “Then how about Dnepropetrovsk?”
                  “That was only twelve minutes all right!”
                  “They had to reschedule the flight plan for a week!”
                  “All right, all right, all right! Relax man. I promise I’ll be on time today.” Ivan said and held up his hand as to make a pact.
                  “Well you better get ready then. We air in fifteen minutes.”
                  Zaitsev, still dressed in the normal uniform, looked at his watch.
                  “Oh ****!” he said and ran towards his barrack.
                  Yuri sighed and shook his head.

                  Luc was standing by the assembly line between Jean and André. Farther down the line were Marc, Hugo, Henry, Georges, Robert and Nicolas.
                  “Man, this job ****ing sucks you know?” Andre said after putting down a piece of the automobile they were building at the factory.
                  “Tell me about it. I have been here for twelve years you know. I have never seen the shadow of a raise, a promotion or even some kind of a bonus. You guys have only been here for a couple of years haven’t you?” Georges said. Georges was the most senior of the workers at assembly line.
                  All the rest nodded. They were far younger than Georges.
                  “Well, it could have something to do with the fact that you were caught playing dart at a picture of the Manager.” Nicolas said.
                  “Several times actually!” Marc added.
                  “Or the one time they caught you trying out a voodoo doll resembling the Department Manager.”
                  Hugo said and looked at the others. They all laughed.
                  “Or the several times you have been seen sabotaging various belongings of the bosses!”
                  They all laughed again. Except, of course, Georges.
                  “Listen up you little bastards. That was revenge for not giving me a promotion or anything.”
                  They didn’t stop laughing.
                  Georges just looked insulted and continued working on the assembly line.
                  “Well of course we shouldn’t ****ing forget the glorious moment where you took a ****ing parking lot that in fact belonged to none else than ****ing Mr. Peugeot himself!” André said and burst into laughter. The others joined him.
                  “Listen up you sorry excuses for…”
                  Georges started for a long ranting about how useless they were and how unfair he had been treated here.
                  Unaware that they would soon be begging for their old jobs
                  Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    88Ball, nice story so far, sorry Ive not responded to this before now Ive only just read it through

                    Its off to a good start and its got that hook to it that makes me want to come back and see what happens next. Please update this with a new chapter asap
                    A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      You DO have another Chapter dont you?

                      Whats this..a Pledge Pin..on your Uniform..get down and write me another chapter

                      Start by counting to the heavens above I dont wipe that smirk off your disgusting face...


                      Gramps "NOT Doug Neidermeyer" Troll
                      Attached Files
                      Hi, I'm RAH and I'm a Benaholic.-rah

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Well, ive started in school again, so i have been away from my computer for some time but here is the fourth chapter


                        Chapter 4

                        The next Wednesday all newspapers and TV-station in Russia received word that the assassins of Mikhail Sorentjov had been arrested.
                        A few hours later Kulishnikov and Stukov was sitting at a table in front of the entire press of Russia
                        When all appeared to have arrived Igor Kulishnikov got up from his chair and walked over to the microphone.
                        “My fellow Russians. October the 11th Mikhail Sorentjov, the past Minister of Defence, was assassinated at a football match in Moscow. He was killed by three projectiles of a sniper rifle.
                        Upon further examination have our specialist technicians identified the three projectile as French of origin. Also, a raid on two French immigrants revealed documents containing information on both the late Minister of Defence and myself, Prime Minister Igor Kulishnikov.
                        The two French immigrants had also several boxes of ammunition identical to the ones found in the autopsy of Mikhail Sorentjov and a sniper rifle was also found. The documents found however also contained another paper.
                        This paper was an official authorization from the French Prime Minister and The French Queen, Joan of Arc. The authorization clearly states that the two French immigrants arrested are operative in the French Secret Service. It also states that they are allowed to assassinate and kill both Mikhail Sorentjov and me.
                        Due to this I have decided to retaliate at the French to make them regret their treason. And so I give the word to newly appointed Minister of Defence General Aleksandr Stukov. General Stukov?”

                        Kulishnikov gestured towards Stukov that got up form his chair and went over to the speakers stand.

                        “Yes, well, as all with relatives in the military will know, most of the Russian Army is currently on a training exercise in the Saxon Archipelago’s off the coast of France. Therefore we will immediately order the troops into French territory and seize the province of Toulouse. That shall serve as a leaping board for the rest of the operation. I shall personally be in charge of the operation.
                        Now it is possible that men will die in this strike on French soil. But remember, the assassinations were most likely to be an action to soften the Russians up for an invasion. The French were planning to attack Russia. We have caught them in the act and they must be punished. We shall not stop until we have Queen Joan of Arc in our custody.”

                        Stukov retreated from the speakers stand and returned to his chairs.
                        Kulishnikov returned to the microphone.
                        “As you heard The French must pay for their betrayal. Now any questions?”
                        Nearly everybody put up their hand.
                        “Yes, Petrov…?”
                        Stukov decided to retreat form this battlefield. He despised reporters and journalists.
                        They would tell the truth as they saw fit. Only thinking of their own gain.
                        “Excuse me General Stukov?”
                        Aleksandr turned around and saw a young, beautiful woman standing there with a notepad in one hand and a pencil in the other.
                        “Uh…Yes that’s me.” Aleksandr said.
                        “Hi, I am Valentina Yurenkov from the St. Petersburg Bugle; I was wondering why you have deemed a military action necessary?”
                        “I am very sorry Valentina but I am quite in a hurry. How about we talk about it some other time?”
                        “Great, how about lunch sometime?”
                        Aleksandr was surprised.
                        “Sure, how about the day after tomorrow at 2-2.30?”
                        “Suits me fine.” Valentina smiled, turned around and walked away.
                        Stukov couldn’t help looking at her ass as she walked away.

                        Later that day at the ‘Leaping Fox’ in Orleans.
                        Luc burst in on the bar and held up a newspaper.
                        “Look at this! The Russian are blaming us for the Russian Defence Ministers assassination!”
                        He shouted to Jean, Andre, Hugo and Pierre.
                        They all looked at him and the paper.
                        “You serious?” Pierre said and reached out for the newspaper.
                        Luc held it away from him and showed him the front page.
                        Pierre reached out for it again and grabbed it. He looked at the front page.
                        “Yeah, they’re blaming us. And declaring war on us!”
                        “What!” Jean, André and Hugo said simultaneously.
                        “Yeah, they think it’s only right after what we did to them.” Luc said with fury.
                        Jean grabbed the paper from Pierre’s hands and started reading.
                        “Anyway the Defence Minister Martin has issued a statement requesting that all able bodied French men are to meet at the recruitment office and sign up for war duty. I don’t know about you but I am going there now.”
                        “Hold up there Mr. Patriot. You realize that Russia has the most powerful army in the world?”
                        Jean said and continued reading the paper.
                        “And from what I am reading here it sound as if they were right. The ammunition they found inside Sorentjov was French; the two men they arrested were French immigrants and had files with info on both Sorentjov and Kulishnikov. And they had bullets of the same type that were found inside Sorentjov. Maybe they’re right?”
                        Luc rolled his eyes.
                        “Can’t you see it? Those warmongering Russians are using it as an excuse for invading France!
                        That ‘evidence’ could easily have been planted there. It is a frame up!” he shouted at Jean.
                        “Well, it sounds to me like he might be right. Listen up Luc, take a seat and let me drink the rest of this beer and I’ll go with you.” Hugo said and drank from his beer.
                        Luc sat down on his regular stool.
                        “Ye want anything while ye’re waiting?” Pierre asked Luc.
                        “Uh…Yeah I’ll have a beer.” He said and put some money on the bar.
                        Pierre fetched a beer from under the bar and opened it.
                        André looked like he was thinking hard, then he took his pint and emptied it.
                        “Ah, what the **** I’ll go with you as well. Haven’t got anything better to ****ing do you know.”
                        Luc smiled and drank from his bottle.
                        Jean put down the paper and looked around.
                        “Have you all gone mad or have you had too much beer?” he said.
                        “If you sign up for this war, there is no way any of you will survive! The Russians are ruthless killers!
                        They don’t care whether or not you have you hands up! They’ll sooner put a bullet in you head than cuffs on your hands!” Jean looked quite furious.
                        He looked around, and then took a sip of his beer.
                        “I know I am going to regret this!” he whispered.
                        “All right ill go to, but only to look after you and make sure you don’t get shot before you have killed a couple of ruskis!”
                        Luc, André and Hugo cheered and drank the last of their beers.
                        “Well how about you Pierre? Aren’t you going to serve your country?” Luc asked the barkeep.
                        “Of course I’ll serve my country! I’ll serve it all the beer it wants!”
                        They all laughed.
                        “Great, well, you are the first we’ll visit when we get home.” Hugo said.
                        “Yeah, we’re probably gong to ****ing thirsty after kicking some Russian ass!” André shouted.
                        “Well, the recruitment office closes at 5, so we should probably get going.” Luc said.
                        “Yep, let’s go and sign up huh?” jeans said after putting a few money bills on the bar.
                        They all left the bar in a very cheerful spirit.

                        ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
                        Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit

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                        • #13
                          thanks for this

                          hope we hear from you again very very soon

                          I am interested where this is going

                          I had great delight in Chasing Cathy and her Russian squadies across many a game map... (and even having hyer and her kind smite me a few too many times )
                          Gurka 17, People of the Valley
                          I am of the Horde.

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            88Ball:

                            Good start to a story, very entertaining.

                            The one thing that is amiss is that Russians don't play football like most Europeans, the most popular Russian sport is hockey. I know it seems like a small thing, but I just didn't follow why Russians would really care about a soccer match.
                            * A true libertarian is an anarchist in denial.
                            * If brute force isn't working you are not using enough.
                            * The difference between Genius and stupidity is that Genius has a limit.
                            * There are Lies, Damned Lies, and The Republican Party.

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