By now his brethren had caused enough havoc on the east coast to buy him time for at least one clean shot. Fighters were scrambled after the first impact to prevent further incident, but there was going to be one more.
He eased the throttle forward a little more, anxious to perform his task, hell-bent on completing it before being discovered. The sun's rays beat down upon the dull, silver razor as it approached the city and carved it's way through the skyline at breakneck speed. For a brief moment, he imagined the reactions of those in the surrounding buildings as he whipped by too quickly for them to realize what just screamed past their window, leaving them to speculate. The rumble of his jet wake was the only lingering evidence of his passing, a sound many wouldn't forget once he'd accomplished his task.
The supersonic angel of death threw itself from the cityscape on a steep bank before spotting the interstate and swooping down upon it. The plungers of his target's lethal injection were now depressed, and their payload was rocketing up the asphalt aorta toward its victim's heart. He checked the radar as he hugged the earth, and a smirk split open his face to reveal a thin, broken, white line. He was oblivious to the chaos in his wake, car after van after truck veering off the road in disbelief, some slamming into the vehicles they were trailing as drivers craned their necks and stared slack-jawed at the glow of his engines for an eternal moment before their lives ended in violent impact. Unplanned, but not unwanted side effects of his mission to turn this country on it's ear.
He found himself almost chuckling to himself about how easy it had been to get this far. So much for being the champions of the impenetrable armor of modern technology. Every armor has a weak spot. He thought of the military vehicles they used armored with aluminum and realized he shouldn't be so suprised it was this easy. He'd seen the video footage taken from the noses of bombs and missles as they weaved their way through the night hitting target after target. Impressive to say the least, but such things were no threat to the silver bullet fired at the heart of the country he hated more than anything, the silver bullet he was piloting. At this point it felt as if he were straddling a silver bullet as he unconsciously guided it toward its target, almost as if it had a mind of its own. He'd run through this in siumulation countless times over the past two years, ensuring his success. Again he chuckled to himself at the thought of trying to finish the task with his eyes closed, something he was almost certain he was capable of.
(to be continued)
He eased the throttle forward a little more, anxious to perform his task, hell-bent on completing it before being discovered. The sun's rays beat down upon the dull, silver razor as it approached the city and carved it's way through the skyline at breakneck speed. For a brief moment, he imagined the reactions of those in the surrounding buildings as he whipped by too quickly for them to realize what just screamed past their window, leaving them to speculate. The rumble of his jet wake was the only lingering evidence of his passing, a sound many wouldn't forget once he'd accomplished his task.
The supersonic angel of death threw itself from the cityscape on a steep bank before spotting the interstate and swooping down upon it. The plungers of his target's lethal injection were now depressed, and their payload was rocketing up the asphalt aorta toward its victim's heart. He checked the radar as he hugged the earth, and a smirk split open his face to reveal a thin, broken, white line. He was oblivious to the chaos in his wake, car after van after truck veering off the road in disbelief, some slamming into the vehicles they were trailing as drivers craned their necks and stared slack-jawed at the glow of his engines for an eternal moment before their lives ended in violent impact. Unplanned, but not unwanted side effects of his mission to turn this country on it's ear.
He found himself almost chuckling to himself about how easy it had been to get this far. So much for being the champions of the impenetrable armor of modern technology. Every armor has a weak spot. He thought of the military vehicles they used armored with aluminum and realized he shouldn't be so suprised it was this easy. He'd seen the video footage taken from the noses of bombs and missles as they weaved their way through the night hitting target after target. Impressive to say the least, but such things were no threat to the silver bullet fired at the heart of the country he hated more than anything, the silver bullet he was piloting. At this point it felt as if he were straddling a silver bullet as he unconsciously guided it toward its target, almost as if it had a mind of its own. He'd run through this in siumulation countless times over the past two years, ensuring his success. Again he chuckled to himself at the thought of trying to finish the task with his eyes closed, something he was almost certain he was capable of.
(to be continued)
happy friday to ya! i gotta get to bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!