PHONE OF LIBERTY
"To-day, expect the wea-ther to be. rainy. Seven-ty per-cent chance of
rain, lows in the six-ties and the highs in the mid seven-ties."
Earl's alarm woke him up. The alarm wasn't really an alarm clock; it was just set to turn on once every 12 hours. It was really just one of those automated-weather-reporters. His was set to have the computer voice with the Russian accent announce it - it made him seem grammatically superior. He got up, unhappy from the lack of sleep his job called for.
Earl was SWAT Officer. Underpaid and overworked were two statements he tried to keep out of his mind at all times, but they always managed to sneak in his mind. somehow.
His eyes were bloodshot as he walked over to the bathroom, staring at his mirror. He moved his left arm slowly to his black toothbrush while turning on the faucet with his right hand. The water jetted out and Earl slid his toothbrush under it, followed by a twist off on the faucet. Put the tooth paste on, brush the teeth, take a shower, put on his SWAT Outfit and pants, put cell phone and wallet in pants - a normal morning for Earl.
What Earl didn't know was that somewhere else on the other side of Liberty was Don. Don was already at his cubicle, automatic-dialer infront of him. He had his headset on, and was ready to do what he did every day for 12 hours - market Sprint's seven-cents-a-minute local & long distance plan. He needed the money, and one sale equated plenty of money for him. He pressed the button on his auto-dialer, and he heard the ringing he heard every morning.
".Hello?" a man queried in his morning voice.
"Hi, I'm Don and I was wondering if you would switch to."
CLICK.
He hated it when they hung up. but it happens. And it happens a lot.
Earl was already at the Police Station, getting ready for today's mission. He walked past the shooting range and right into the Planning Room Head Quarters.
"Just in time, 'eh, Earl?" the Squad Leader said. Earl forgot his name - not important enough, as they were to use code names across the walkie- talkies anyway.
"Just in time," he responded.
They want on and on about the mission: intrusion point, exit points, way points, the frequencies they were to use over the radio's, the code name's, and the weapons. As usual, Earl got his favorite gun - PSG1 Sniper Rifle. He couldn't shoot fast, but he would shoot well.
".WHO IS THIS?!" a voice grumbled.
"Hello, there Mr. Carrmickel, I'm with."
"ITS CARMICHAEL, ASSHOLE!"
CLICK.
Not a good call yet. Oh well. the day could get better. Just maybe.
Earl was in the SWAT Van. They were to capture a drug lord, located in some Apartment Building. Most drug lords were in apartment buildings these days. Earl didn't know why - for all that he cared, it could've been a bookstore. Either way, he was going to arrest a man who put drugs on the streets, and he didn't care where.
Two down on the list of the auto-dials that Don was to call, there was a man named "Earl Robertson". It was a cell phone, so the address wasn't shown: just the name and the phone number.
".Well, hi there! Who is this?" the voice responded in a southern accent.
"Hi, I'm Don Willis of Sprint's seven cents." Don said back.
"No thanks!" a voice said, peacefully.
CLICK. Well, atleast he was polite, Don thought. The name Earl was the next one on the list.
Earl was one other team member, creeping up on the drug dealer. The dealer was assumed to be two rooms away, in a room with heavy security. Easy victory for the L.C.P.D., Earl thought. His team member, the Squad Leader, was opening the door ahead of him. Left foot followed by right foot, both men walked in.
On the other side of the building, the two other members' of his squad (they broke up in mini-teams) were also creeping till they both got one room away from the drug dealer.
Ring. Ring, ring. Ring.
The cell phone rang while he was on the job - it had never happened before to him.
Shit.
"What vas that noise?"
"Go check it out, quickly!"
The team didn't know what to do. and so, they lifted their guns to aim at the door, and waited.
CREEK.
"Holy.!"
Earl fired his gun, hitting the thug directly in head. He plummeted directly backwards, falling nearly five feet away from where he was shot. More thugs rushed over, and a firefight let out.
BAM! BAM!
The other two members of his squad charged in from the other side, trying to take out more men. The guns got so hot from shooting so much that you could burn a hot dog on them. This wouldn't have been a problem if the drug dealer and his thugs weren't shooting back.
BAM! BAM!
Two shots from the thugs took down two people on the SWAT team. Earl did the only thing he thought he could do: Run, and run fast. He darted away from his team, away from the dead members, away from the man he shot. He ran away from it all, forgetting what that the door was open. Just run, he thought, everything will be okay in the morning.
BAM!
Earl fell to his knees, his gut in such pain that he would have rather died than live through this pain. It wasn't much of a choice - he would die from lead poisoning unless he got to a hospital.
"Hello, I'm with Sprint. I was wondering if you would like to switch to our seven-cents-a-minute plan for the next three or so months."
I might be able to get help, Earl thought. Just tell him the address.
"Hel."
CLICK.
Don hung up the phone, insulted by modern society.
"Five or so calls and not a single one gives me respect. Not a single one," Don said aloud.
.and so, Earl was left there to die, with two teammates already dead, and one to be dead soon.
BAM!
He saw only red, and lost his ability to think. His life flashed before his eyes, and he barely managed to think: Maybe there's an after life. Maybe.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Handed this baby in for school (different city name, same character names and overall story). Got an A+ :)
Earl's alarm woke him up. The alarm wasn't really an alarm clock; it was just set to turn on once every 12 hours. It was really just one of those automated-weather-reporters. His was set to have the computer voice with the Russian accent announce it - it made him seem grammatically superior. He got up, unhappy from the lack of sleep his job called for.
Earl was SWAT Officer. Underpaid and overworked were two statements he tried to keep out of his mind at all times, but they always managed to sneak in his mind. somehow.
His eyes were bloodshot as he walked over to the bathroom, staring at his mirror. He moved his left arm slowly to his black toothbrush while turning on the faucet with his right hand. The water jetted out and Earl slid his toothbrush under it, followed by a twist off on the faucet. Put the tooth paste on, brush the teeth, take a shower, put on his SWAT Outfit and pants, put cell phone and wallet in pants - a normal morning for Earl.
What Earl didn't know was that somewhere else on the other side of Liberty was Don. Don was already at his cubicle, automatic-dialer infront of him. He had his headset on, and was ready to do what he did every day for 12 hours - market Sprint's seven-cents-a-minute local & long distance plan. He needed the money, and one sale equated plenty of money for him. He pressed the button on his auto-dialer, and he heard the ringing he heard every morning.
".Hello?" a man queried in his morning voice.
"Hi, I'm Don and I was wondering if you would switch to."
CLICK.
He hated it when they hung up. but it happens. And it happens a lot.
Earl was already at the Police Station, getting ready for today's mission. He walked past the shooting range and right into the Planning Room Head Quarters.
"Just in time, 'eh, Earl?" the Squad Leader said. Earl forgot his name - not important enough, as they were to use code names across the walkie- talkies anyway.
"Just in time," he responded.
They want on and on about the mission: intrusion point, exit points, way points, the frequencies they were to use over the radio's, the code name's, and the weapons. As usual, Earl got his favorite gun - PSG1 Sniper Rifle. He couldn't shoot fast, but he would shoot well.
".WHO IS THIS?!" a voice grumbled.
"Hello, there Mr. Carrmickel, I'm with."
"ITS CARMICHAEL, ASSHOLE!"
CLICK.
Not a good call yet. Oh well. the day could get better. Just maybe.
Earl was in the SWAT Van. They were to capture a drug lord, located in some Apartment Building. Most drug lords were in apartment buildings these days. Earl didn't know why - for all that he cared, it could've been a bookstore. Either way, he was going to arrest a man who put drugs on the streets, and he didn't care where.
Two down on the list of the auto-dials that Don was to call, there was a man named "Earl Robertson". It was a cell phone, so the address wasn't shown: just the name and the phone number.
".Well, hi there! Who is this?" the voice responded in a southern accent.
"Hi, I'm Don Willis of Sprint's seven cents." Don said back.
"No thanks!" a voice said, peacefully.
CLICK. Well, atleast he was polite, Don thought. The name Earl was the next one on the list.
Earl was one other team member, creeping up on the drug dealer. The dealer was assumed to be two rooms away, in a room with heavy security. Easy victory for the L.C.P.D., Earl thought. His team member, the Squad Leader, was opening the door ahead of him. Left foot followed by right foot, both men walked in.
On the other side of the building, the two other members' of his squad (they broke up in mini-teams) were also creeping till they both got one room away from the drug dealer.
Ring. Ring, ring. Ring.
The cell phone rang while he was on the job - it had never happened before to him.
Shit.
"What vas that noise?"
"Go check it out, quickly!"
The team didn't know what to do. and so, they lifted their guns to aim at the door, and waited.
CREEK.
"Holy.!"
Earl fired his gun, hitting the thug directly in head. He plummeted directly backwards, falling nearly five feet away from where he was shot. More thugs rushed over, and a firefight let out.
BAM! BAM!
The other two members of his squad charged in from the other side, trying to take out more men. The guns got so hot from shooting so much that you could burn a hot dog on them. This wouldn't have been a problem if the drug dealer and his thugs weren't shooting back.
BAM! BAM!
Two shots from the thugs took down two people on the SWAT team. Earl did the only thing he thought he could do: Run, and run fast. He darted away from his team, away from the dead members, away from the man he shot. He ran away from it all, forgetting what that the door was open. Just run, he thought, everything will be okay in the morning.
BAM!
Earl fell to his knees, his gut in such pain that he would have rather died than live through this pain. It wasn't much of a choice - he would die from lead poisoning unless he got to a hospital.
"Hello, I'm with Sprint. I was wondering if you would like to switch to our seven-cents-a-minute plan for the next three or so months."
I might be able to get help, Earl thought. Just tell him the address.
"Hel."
CLICK.
Don hung up the phone, insulted by modern society.
"Five or so calls and not a single one gives me respect. Not a single one," Don said aloud.
.and so, Earl was left there to die, with two teammates already dead, and one to be dead soon.
BAM!
He saw only red, and lost his ability to think. His life flashed before his eyes, and he barely managed to think: Maybe there's an after life. Maybe.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Handed this baby in for school (different city name, same character names and overall story). Got an A+ :)