Select Intelligence and Logistics Operations (SILO) - Death in Mumbai

 

In the struggle that ensued Mulberry was sent crashing through the veranda window onto the balcony. Lensky, pulling the kebab skewer out of his rib cage followed behind, picking the agent up by the crotch of his trousers and throwing him over the side of the hotel building.

Rupert Mulberry, 23, was a librarian, single, had knowledge in linguistics, and spoke three languages including Russian. A perfect recruit for security services and Rupert was only too happy to oblige. He was assigned to 'listening stations' across Germany and Finland, eavesdropping on Russian conversation using radio technology. At the age of 28, Rupert left the service and married but that didn't last long due to his odd sexual behaviors. He started teaching languages to students in England before being approached by a representative of  Select Intelligence and Logistics Operations, commonly known as 'SILO', a special branch of MI6.

Established in 1979, SILO, a branch of the British security services is answerable only to high government. The organization works closely with MI6 and overseas with the National Security Agency. Its hand-picked recruits are put through a vigorous and exhaustive training program of covert operations of which only a remaining few will be considered field operatives. Rupert Mulberry became one of the few.

Rupert had always wanted to become a secret agent. He hoped he would get a gun. A Glock 18 would be nice. He had trained with small firearms and knew, all things considered in the good spirit of things, that he was ready to shoot someone. 

Signing the official secrets act, Rupert could not discuss his employment with family or friends. Instead, he was issued with a 'cover story.' Rupert Mulberry, 'export tractor salesman.' Enjoying the idea of being someone else he set about his homework and perfected his disguise. He would tell people he sold, globally, heavy tractors; John Deere, New Holland, Preet. In his briefcase was supplied all the subterfuge he required. Updated informative colorful brochures, an invoice book, letter headings, and calling cards that read; 

Dolsen & Hobbs - Amalgamated Farming Machinery - Rupert Mulberry - Sales Representative

            With a contact number at the bottom of the card.

So what went wrong so wrong?

Perhaps his guest, Lensky, just didn't like the egotistical, narcissistic fellow from 'Dolsen & Hobbs'. Maybe it was the fact that he ordered room service speaking in Hindi while entertaining his guest in fluent Russian. Or just maybe, Mulberry knew everything about tractors but couldn't sell shit to Eskimos'. Whatever happened his cover had been compromised and none of the above really mattered anymore as Rupert hurtled, screaming, thirty stories into a Mumbai car park.    

😊

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Alice in Wonderland

 The 'Babba.' Devils with painted faces, are a tribe of cannibals. Drunk stupid on Cato Bine, a blend of ethanol and leech milk. They usually hunt in numbers of five's or sixes, stalking their quarry, small groups of weary travelers and especially loners, before launching into a vicious attack and Alice wasn't going to be their evening meal. Three where now dead but she counted four down on the embankment. Suddenly the fourth man appeared, charging out of the tree line with knives clenched in each hand screaming something. Alice turned in time, producing from her knee long trench coat the 'Tate & Lyle'  pulse riffle and firing from the hip, ''Yay, Bitch!'' Off loading the remaining five rounds into his disintegrating torso. Quickly discarding the empty magazine into her old gas mask bag, she reloaded, breathing heavily, pointing her weapon left, right and center into the glade just in case her count was wrong. It wasn't.                                                                                                                                      

The sheer strength of the ice had crushed the foundations of the last bridge standing some years ago.To reach 'the City' she would have to cross the frozen river by foot. Alice had to be high up in a building before night fall or risk attacks by 'Raider's or packs of wild hungry dogs. The poor creatures, themselves, cannibals. One foot on the ice with caution and then the other, she started her way across the river.                                                                                                                              

Alice had ventured into 'the City' once before. Not for food. Food had long gone. But for drugs. Any drugs. Penicillin, pain killers, ointments, wound dressings, band aids, batteries. Anything that she could carry in her shoulder bag. She knew of one place. Unless 'Raider's' or the other gang's had been there first. The ruins of a hospital on the 'south side' had pharmacy stores a level underground.

The river crossing was uneventful and Alice was soon in an office apartment three stories above street level in time for nightfall. She had enough munitions and 'K' rations, hopefully, until she got back to the hill fortress.She wouldn't sleep. Not here. Not tonight.                                                                                                    

The noise entered her dreamworld awaking her instantly to the darkness but to late, the figure kicked her in the stomach once and then twice before picking her up and throwing her against a wall. Alice was on her knees, gaining some sight in the dark as the figure of a man grabbed her by the throat and with one hand pulling her up against the wall, her feet not touching the ground. The other hand groping her breast, ''Pretty little girl. Easy now. Were going to have some fun with you.'' He whispered. Feeling the warmth of his breath on her face, she he grappled for the 'Bowie' knife attached to her belt and quickly began puncturing his neck and face again, again and again. The hand let go her throat and Alice was on her knees again, catching her breath and listening to gargling noises. '' Have fun with that.'' She choked.Then a moment of silence.

''Jakko! Jakko! Where are you? Bolly's upstairs cooking dog!'' Came a shout from the other side of the office.

Alice crouched, searching for her riffle and bag. She found them both, and now crawling into an office cubicle of which there where dozens. Kneeling on one knee she waited.

''Jakko, you in here?'' The man's voice sounded near by. ''Tin nut, have a look over there.''

There where 'two' of them. Footsteps on carpet tiles came and went. Clutching her 'semi', she didn't want to use the weapon in fear it should bring more trouble. Dawn was breaking. She had to get out of  here. 

''He's not here, let's eat.'' said, Tin nut.

''The fat crud. Some guard duty. O.k, we'll eat.'' agreed the 'first' man.

Alice remained calm.They haven't found 'Jakko,' she thought,.I'll be out of dodge in no time. And holding on to that thought she moved a few inches to the left as three rotten shelves and a whole bunch of office paraphernalia came crashing down on top her of her. ''Fuck it!'' She yelled, rising up from the pile of Formica panels and targeting her semi-automatic over the partition of the cubicle.

Tin nut and his friend with the 'mohawk' both heard the 'crashing', too, and stood wondering, what had occurred? Just then, in momentary contemplation, Tin nut's head exploded over the second man. The man ran a hand over one side of his face as the second round hit the wall behind him. Now he was running through the office isle heading past the elevators and up the stairway yelling to his cohorts. Alice didn't wait around either. Grabbing her bag she ran, gun pointing, through the isle, past the elevators, down the stairs leading to the lobby and out into the freezing snow covered street. Making good distance between her and the office block.        

Alice was seven miles into her journey from the office block and five days out from the hill fortress. The freezing breeze bit through her but she was not far from her destination now. It will be dark soon. She was tired and she would have to find a building to rest up. And that is when Alice experienced the sudden jolt of pain. ''Fuck!'' She staggered out of the road, stumbling onto the side walk and falling onto her side. ''Fuckers!'' Alice cried, waiving the snub nosed rifle aimlessly at anything and everything. ''You Fuckers!'' She fired off a few wild rounds.                                                                                                                              

The 15 inch steel bolt fired from a crossbow pierced her trench coat penetrating her middle back and out through her stomach. And there it lodged itself. She yanked at the tip and that caused pain. She struggled to her feet using the bonnet of a car as leverage but the pain was to great and she sank back down onto the icy pavement. Loosing blood, 'I'll just sit here a while', Alice thought, clutching her rifle. The pain did stop the bleeding did not. Snowfall became blizzard. The last thing she saw was a dog staring curiously at her. She laughed, muttering, ''Dinners nearly ready, boy. Bring a friend.'' And then Alice fell asleep as the blizzard covered her with a blanket of snow.

                                                                           

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Is God a Spaceman?

 As you gaze upon the countless stars in the night sky have you ever asked yourself, 'Are we alone?' Of course you have and thanks to recent technologies, for one, the 'Hubble Telescope.' We can see the secrets of our universe slowly unfolding in front of us. It's becoming harder to think we humans are the only ones in the Cosmos. Certainly, there are forms of life out there. Why wouldn't there be?

Are we unique? Or is that question a precursor to our own vanity? 

So here we are, on Earth-our Goldilocks planet. Its position and movement in space make it not too hot, and not too cold. Just right. Not forgetting a nitrogen blue sky and plenty of water. There are many  planetary systems like ours in the universe, with planets orbiting a host star. But were all the way out here, stuck on a rim world, far away from all the action, in an outer spiral arm of the Milky Way.          Hardly seems fair. Using a half-decent telescope you can plainly see the party is pumping out there.- It's electric. But why are 'we' not out there? I have a theory I devised while listening to 'The Prodigy' and extinguishing a kitchen fire. Please.Walk with me on this one.

    

The party is pumping out there and were all back of the bus

Since the dawn of our creation all humans do is 'Eat-Fight and make tiny humans, (repeat)'. Maybe  'out there' we had another 'Earth' where possible we tried very, very hard to coexist with other species on other planets. But our tendency to overpopulate and extreme hunger meant the colonization of other worlds and that sometimes meant going to war and we, as humans, are good at that. Eating, fighting,  and making tiny humans is what we do best. It's in our bones. There must have been some sort of alien uprising. A purge against 'humans'. Selective slaughter. Extermination. Terrible wars ensued across the known universe and after some time of it all, leaving remaining pockets of 'humans' scattered throughout the galaxies, and on the endangered list. The cull was over. Time to rebuild.

But what to do with the survivors of the 'human' race'? Their home planet obliterated during the wars. They couldn't very well live among thriving, civilized communities. There was, however, a world at the edge of the universe they might occupy. A world far, far way away.

Great 'Ark's', colony vessels were built and 'humans' were herded inside. Calculating it would take three 'human' generations before the colony ships orbited 'Earth'. Enough time to lose all craft skills and history of whence they came. Encouraged to mate in breeding pens, their infants are separated at learning age. The 'Ark' ships continued their long journey through space.

Around 300,000 years ago colony vessels arrived on Earth, landing in the once lush fertile plains, wetlands and forests of  Africa. It is here the 'passengers'  alighted. In what is now the Kalahari Desert of Botswana. 

There are early cave drawings and mysterious rock art from around the world depicting alien-like figures which suggest aliens from other planets have been interacting with humans since prehistoric times. Could they represent our abductees? When dropped, does toast lay buttered side down on the floor?

And our race into space? I don't think we'll get passed the far side of the Sun before an Escapulan frigate escorts us back to Earth or a Dalmenian 'Cloud Roller' blasts us to smithereens. We are not wanted out there. Hell. Do you want humans living as close neighbors? Thought not. Nor do I.

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Nuclear Threat: How Safe are We? With WLKC Corespondent Dick Travis

 With all that is going on in the world how 'really' safe are we? Ten countries have arsenals of nuclear weapons. Enough firepower to blow the world seven ways to Sunday. Fortunately, we have defense systems to counter such a threat. 

 I'm here at Bunkers Hill tracking station, England, with Software Engineer, Brian Ruddles. 

  It's here from which the movements of missiles, aircraft, satellites, and such are tracked day in and day out and these guys have one hell of a job to perform. 

Brian, I'm concerned. Can a speeding nuclear missile hurtling towards Earth be tracked before it hits say, Glasgow?

''Sure, Dick, but that is irrelevant. Modern glide vehicles  are much more difficult to track and also have much more range than previous generation re-entry vehicles.''

I see. That doesn't sound so good. Can these 'glide vehicles' be destroyed in flight?

''Certainly. Nothing at sea level can really go hypersonic. They glow hot and can be targeted by long-range anti-ballistic missiles well in advance and finally during approach by short-range Surface to Air Missiles in numbers of 4+ creating a literal wall of exploding missiles in front of the approaching warhead.''

And have these 'SAMs' proven their worth, Brian?

''Yes. Some modern hypersonic platforms have recently been intercepted by short-range SAMs since the troubles in Eastern Europe began.''

And does Britain have its own hypersonic weapons?

No. Not yet. However, the UK has signed an agreement with the US and Australia to develop such weapons jointly. So any time now.

That's the 'go' news we wanted to hear Brian. Payback's a bitch. We will all sleep better tonight.

This is Dick Travis, Bunkers Hill, for WLKC. and it's over to the station.

 Can you track a missing dog, Brian, or a philandering wife living in a trailer park somewhere near Vegas with a guy named Carlo?

''No. We usually only do what's in the air, Dick.''

Of course, ''what's in the air.'' Married three weeks and she empties the account and skips town with the car. It's not your problem, Brian. We met in a lap dancing joint. She rinsed me for 200 bucks but we were in love. I knew too late I should have left her sorry ass in Reno with bar boy, flim-flam, Carlo. But I'm not bitter, no. If I only had the launch codes to just one of those missiles I'd know where to stick it. What doesn't kill you, am I right?

''Well, I guess.''

I have a photo here in my wallet...let's see...That's Brandy and that's me in the 'Aloha' shirt and the pink building behind is the Glory Vines chapel in Vegas where we married. Elvis Presley broke his leg in a bar fight so Charlie Chaplin performed the service and he was half the price.

''You both look very happy, Dick, but 'we' have to leave the complex now. 

Where does a guy get a drink 'round here?

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"Teardrop" - Massive Attack