Sunday Photo Fiction: Part Seven – Nineteen-Years Later


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Lamp Post SPF
A Mixed Bag

“Ah, my back. A bullet hit me,” Chad was almost crying. He was half-awake and half in another wold.

He was dreaming of a lamp post glowing in the night beside a park bench. Soothing Russian words came from a man in front of him. The man was a man he had thought was his dead father, Tom.

Then, Sam shook Chad awake,”I know you’re not trained for this Chad. I’m so proud of you, but you have to stay awake.”

Chad groaned, turned on his stomach. He was shocked to see he had been shot right through his cartoon seal tattoo.

“Marrion, look at my tattoo.” Chad rasped.

Marrion was hiding on the floor beside Chad and Sam. They were behind the science lab counters in the back of the lab.

She gasped, grabbing the device she had used to scan Chad’s tattoo before and scanning his tattoo again. She hurriedly, grabbed gauze from a cupboard under a counter.

“Thank God,” she said. “Chad hold the gauze against your tattoo or you’re going to die.”

She smiled at both Sam and Chad: “The bullet deactivated Chad’s tattoo. For all of the technology put into the tattoo, none of it works now.”

The gunshots came closer and the glass from the front door of the lab shattered. Then there were voices.” I remember that voice speaking Russian,” Chad murmured.

“Tom speaks Russian.”  Sam said, then was shocked to hear the distinct tone of his brother’s voice.

“Tom’s here,” Marrion said shaking, pressing her hand against the gauze on Chad’s wound.

“It will be okay honey, I’ve got Tom.” Sam said soothingly. He got up, holding a large gun ready to fire. He slowly, walked towards the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Well, well,” a voice said in English.”My brother Sam. Here to kill me again? You need to give me Chad now.”

“Get ready to run Chad. It’s going to hurt you,” Marrion whispered.

They both escaped out an emergency door to the lab. The fire alarms went off covering Chad’s screams of pain.

He heard yelling and footsteps behind him, before he again, passed-out.


Read part 6 here.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 5 – Nineteen-Years Later 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

—–
Chad didn’t have the stomach for being in the military. This was especially apparent to them, as a man Uncle Sam knew rowed them out to a large navy vessel, dropping a grapplinghook when they were close.

Chad and his Uncle Sam boarded the the ship.

“What are we doing here, Uncle?”

“We need to to read your tattoo Chad and find out what information is on there. Why Garig wants it so bad.”

“Do you think he’d really kill me? I’m Mona’s son, wouldn’t that mean anything to Garig?” Chad asked.

Sam sighed.”Garig and Mona went out for a while. For Garig, it didn’t end well because Mona was secretly seeing Tom behind his back . . .”

Sam was interrupted by a pretty woman with red hair and glasses:”Welcome onboard, we’ve been waiting for you,” the woman said in a melodic voice.

Chad was surprised when his Uncle blushed. “Uh, Marrion. It’s good to see you. How are you?”

Marrion smiled, “I’m fine Sam, as well as can be expected after last time . ..” Sam’s eyes went wide.

She turned to Chad. “Chad, let’s go read your tattoo.”

Chad nodded, following Marrion into a lab. He lay on his stomach on a table in an examining room off to the side.

Marrion lifted up Chad’s shirt, seeming to know exactly where his cartoon seal was located.

She chuckled. “I bet you got a few bruises for this tattoo in highschool.”

“Yeah, just a few.”

“Hold still Chad,” Marrion said.

He watched her in a mirror parallel to the table, scanning his tattoo multiple times with an expensive device. Then, he felt a few sharp pokes.

Uncle Sam came into the exam room and Marrion turned to him.

“Sam, this is dangerous information in Chad’s tattoo. You can’t go back after this is revealed. There’s grave peril in this path . . . ”

In the near vicinity, Chad heard gunfire and groaned.

——

Read Part 4 here.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 4 – Nineteen-Years Laters


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

——-
 Chad, Bastion, and Uncle Sam, had taken a flight to Amsterdam after the house in the mountainside of Switzerland, turned out to be a death trap. After finding one of Bastions ‘safe’ houses, Bastion slipped away to do business.

Sam had ruffled Chad’s hair. “You’ve still got your gun on you? Just in case, keep it close.” 

They began to walk on the opposite side of the street, away from a flower market. When Chad’s Uncle paid for two tickets to the medieval torture museum, Chad begged, “Please not in there. . .” 

 “It’s for secrecy and privacy Chad. I’m going to answer your questions about your Dad.” Sam said chuckling.

They walked into a room showcasing a few racks. Uncle Sam and Chad pretended to look at the torture devises.

“There was fight between your Dad’s squadron and an enemy squadron. Tom was undercover and to most of his fellow marines, it appeared as if one of their own had turned. Tom wasn’t expecting to run into his own squad.” Uncle Sam said softly.

“Your Dad was loyal. Only a few marines who ranked with him, knew he was undercover. Bastion knew and so did a man named Garig; the three were close friends in school.”

“Somehow, Tom was shot; it took the rest of his squadron too long to figure out, he wasn’t the enemy. Your Dad knew who among his squad was actually working for the enemy before the encounter.” 

“So who was it?”  Chad asked.

“Well, Tom talked to me a day or two before he was sent undercover. He was sure he knew who the traitor was then; he had proof.” 

” It’s not Bastion,” Sam said quickly. “Tom suspected Gerig because he had been disappearing for long periods of time. Gerig had also been jealous about your Dad marrying Mona; Gerig was in love with your Mom. He also had other information he couldn’t tell me . . .”

” Tom said he had proof Gerig was the enemy, that he was betraying his friends and squad.” 

“How could Dad know? And why is Gerig chasing us?” Chad mumbled.

“What Gerig was involved in . .. It’s on your body and proves his guilt.” Uncle Sam said.

“My tattoo?” 

“Well, yeah. Who gets their kid a tattoo at six-months-old, Chad?” Uncle Sam whispered.

“It’s a Bambi cartoon of an actual seal; I hated it in gym.” Chad muttered. 

“You have to read it the right way to retrieve the information. Only, the right technology can read it.” 

“Like 3D glasses?” Chad asked.

“No, I’m afraid not . . ” Sam couldn’t finish his sentence; he heard screams and people talking noisily.

Running towards the clammer, Chad and Uncle Sam gazed up horrified, as the body of Bastion hung from the noose of a medieval execution scene.

Chad shivered. “It’s Garig. He knows.” He turned around in a circle, wondering if Garig was here.

The palest eyes, nearly white, stared through the crowd at Chad. 

Uncle Sam dragged him away, “The pale-eyed man, it’s him. Chad wake-up. Do you want to die?” 

Chad narrowed his eyes at Garig but inside, his stomach began to twist.

——

Read Part 3 here. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 3 – Nineteen-Years Later


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Mountain homes
A Mixed Bag.

Before they had taken their first flight, Uncle Sam had asked Chad for the calligraphy written letter. They had stopped at a courier and he had the letter sent quickly to a friend.

After weeks travelling, the final leg of their journey ended in the mountains of Switzerland. They traveled by Gondola, before following a path to a sheltered stone doorway in the mountain. Chad had seen windows barely visible on the mountain side.

A man greeted Uncle Sam as they arrived at surprisingly luxurious hide-away.

“Sam, you scared me. I got your letter two-weeks ago.”

“Bastian, this is Chad. We were in New Haven to visit Yale, but the situation escalated quickly. We’re being tracked; the Navy is after us.”

“It has to do with Tom, doesn’t it?”

” It’s why I wrote you Bastian. You were in the Marine’s with Tom. You were there that awful night.” Sam said.

“There was a critical reason Tom had to tell me about it; he had to protect Chad and Mona. She was sent into hiding as you promised, Bastian?”

Chad had to say something: “Mona, My Mom, Mona?”

Bastian scrutinized Chad.”Your Mom is fine Chad. I’ve friends keeping her safe. You know, you look a lot like your Dad.”

“What exactly did my Dad do?” Chad demanded turning to his Uncle.”Back at the hotel in New Haven you promised to tell me everything.I deserve to know what happened.”

Uncle Sam opened his mouth, then the windows exploded. Men in black clothing and masks came in on ropes into the house.

Bastian tossed Chad a gun. “You know how to use this right?”

Chad nodded, running for cover behind the kitchen island. Bullets dinged off metal and splintered wood. He had to shoot one man who came around the island.

When Chad saw the body drop, blood dripping from a bullet hole in the man’s masked forehead, his stomach knotted.

He watched, rapt, as Uncle Sam and Bastian killed eleven other men.


Please See Here for Part 2.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 2 – Nineteen-Years-Later #amwriting #flashfiction


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——-

A Mixed Bag

———

“What are you writing Uncle?” Chad asked Sam.”And why’re you using a calligraphy pen? Carry that in your back pocket?”

“Chad, you shouldn’t be joking.You’re going to give this letter to a trusted bicycle courier. My friend I’m writing can help us; he knows my writing. Pretend the courier outside the hotel side entrance is a buddy.” Sam instructed.

Chad grabbed the letter. “I have a lot of questions Uncle Sam, about my Dad and about why we’re in trouble.” 

Sam nodded. “Go meet the courier, then we’ll talk. I’ll sweep the room for bugs while you’re gone again. I don’t think they’re any, otherwise . . .” 

Chad gulped, quickly leaving the hotel room. He walked to the side entrance of the hotel expecting a guy his age on a bike. 

Instead, he found a trashed bicycle. There was no courier, only drops of blood.

Chad ran as fast he could back to his hotel room terrified. He thought he had taken the right turn, but when he turned around he saw he was at room 395 and not 305. 

“Are you lost hon?” A smiling hotel maid asked him.

“I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not. You are definitely not fine Chad.” A deep voice said.

Chad peered behind him to see his Uncle Sam standing there. Sam shot the maid through the head and collected a gun the maid had hidden in her uniform.

“You can’t trust anyone.” Uncle Sam told Chad harshly.

Chad followed his Uncle out of the hotel, clutching the calligraphy written letter in his hand. 

——-

Please see Part 1 here.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Nineteen-Years Later #flashfiction #amwriting


Thanks to Alistair Forbes who hosts SPF each week.

——

A Mixed Bag

——-

“So why exactly did you choose Loddington House Hotel, Uncle? The shipyard view is not a nice one.” 

“I like the view.” Chad’s Uncle Sam mumbled.

“Errr, I guess it grows on you . . . What’s that you’re peering at through your binoculars? I think people would be creeped out if they saw a guy looking through his hotel window with those.” 

“Well, I’m not a peeping-Tom. It’s the surveillance van. It arrived when we got here exactly and only leaves when we leave.” Uncle Sam muttered.

“Well we’ve hardly left at all. I thought you wanted to come with me to see the University I’m going to be attending. You know, like my Dad would’ve done had he been here.” 

“Chad, there are bigger things going on. The same people who killed your Dad are watching us. What I don’t know, is why?”

“Your Dad was in the Marines Chad; it must have to do with him. But what do they want nineteen-years-later? And what are they trying to accomplish by not hiding their van in plain sight?” Uncle Sam wondered.

Chad’s eyes went wide; his face went pale. He had a feeling their troubles were only beginning.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.