Chapter 4
"Shit!" cried Jenkins. He may have lost his memory, but he knew what a grenade launcher looked like.
"Chief he's got-" at that moment the Chief's patience cracked. Maybe it was his splitting headache, maybe it was
his old age, or maybe he just wasn't the highly disciplined and well- trained Spartan he had been a decade ago. The
Master Chief elbowed Jenkins in the temple and thought nothing of it - Jenkins slumped to the floor. At the same
time, The Chief delivered a swift punch to the barrel of the grenade launcher pointed at his chest, and it bounced off
of a wall in the narrow, well light, white hallway beyond the elevator. He then delivered a not-so-swift punch to take
out the guns owner. He was truly surprised to find that his fist made contact with air. He was even more surprised to
find that he had just been punched in the stomach. If he had been ten years younger he would have reacted to the
situation twice as quickly. But he was so surprised at his opponent's speed that he was punched again, and then a
third time. But this wasn't a tranquilizer to the back of the neck, and the Chief dodged his opponent's next punch
and brought his fist down upon the man's head. The Chief was surprised a third time to see that his opponent did not
go down, but instead struggled up. The Chief delivered another blow to the man's head, who finally collapsed.
Immediately the Chief hauled the man up and put him into a firm headlock. The man was too tenacious for his own
good though, and he struggled furiously.
"Stand still damn it, I'm not trying to hurt you." Said the Chief in a voice harsher than he meant. The man
stopped struggling and listened.
"Thank you. Now I'd like to know why I was taken hostage." The man was silent for a few seconds and
then said,
"Wait, you don't sound Canadian."
"Thanks for noticing." Said the Chief in an agitated voice. "It's because I'm not Canadian, so if that's the
reason I was captured, you and your friends were seriously mistaken." He released the man from his headlock and
stood back - big mistake. The man threw a punch, but the Chief was ready and he quickly put the man back into the
headlock. The man immediately began to rant.
"Hah! Id you really think I would fall for that? Just because you don't sound Canadian dosen't mean you
aren't-" The Chief tightened his grip on the man and began to walk - he knew the man was stalling for
reinforcements.
"I am telling you, I'm not Canadian, and I have no idea what leads you to believe that." Said the Chief as a
hauled the man past various doors and took a left on a fork in the hall.
"Bullshit, you were seen at a Canadian Circus yesterday evening - we have surveillance of it." The Chief
actually smiled at this information.
"So you've been watching me? Good, you can tell me what I've been up to the last twenty-four hours,
because I don't remember a damn thing." The Chief suddenly found himself in a very large room resembling a mess
hall; he also noticed many dark clad figures emerging from doors all around him. Despite this, and a steadily
worsening headache he continued to talk to his captive.
"Look, isn't there some test you could give me, to prove I'm not Canadian?"
"Hah! For a Canadian scumbag, you are pretty smart. We do have a test actually. But I'm positive it will
only confirm my beliefs. Oi Johnson, go fetch me.the test." The Chief's captive called out to a certain man
position behind a table, holding the same sniper rifle-type weapon all the others had. He immediately left the
cafeteria, apparently off to fetch the test." The Chief spent the next minute or so sizing up the situation. There were
47 armed men and women all pointing sniper rifles in his general direction. The Chief noticed that not many of them
really knew what they were doing.He was dealing with amateurs. Just then, Johnson burst through the double
doors he had from which he had exited the room. He was carrying a large black briefcase, which he finally set down
on a table before the Chief. Apparently very pleased with his work so far, the man then took several boards out of
the case, and removed the top one from the pile.
"Alright - to pass the test, you must get each of these multiple choice questions right. If you succeed, we
will know that you are not Canadian." The Chief raised his eyebrow as Johnson flipped the board to face the chief.
There were three pictures on the board. And although the Chief did not know who anyone in the pictures were, here
is their description. On the left, was a picture of Celine Dion, in the middle, Brittany Spears, and on the right,
Woopie Goldberg.
"Which of these women do you feel attracted to most?" asked Johnson. The Chief thought for a moment.
He had never been in a relationship, but he knew that there was something wrong with the woman on the left, and
the woman in the middle didn't feel right - almost fake. He settled with the smiling black woman on the right.
Johnson frowned, but said,
" Odd choice, but correct. You still have two more questions though." He took out the next board, which
had three more pictures on it. On the right, was a picture of a Can of a popular soft drink, in the middle was a picture
of a large block of cheese - reminiscent to the one that he had seen Jenkins being tortured with. He suddenly
remembered Jenkins, and wondered were the hell he was, he didn't have time to brood on the subject though,
because he then noticed that he was being timed. The picture on the right was of a large juicy looking hamburger.
" Which of these would you prefer?" asked Johnson. The Chief went with the hamburger. soft drinks
rotted your bones, and that piece of cheese looked revolting.
"Correct, but don't get cocky, no Canadian could pass this last test." He took the last board, which was
significantly smaller than the other two, and tossed it over to The Chief. He caught it with his free hand and saw that
it was some kind of scratch and sniff. " I want you to sniff the left square first." The Chief complied, and was
greeted with the tranquil scent of a lovely field of roses. Johnson seemed to be noting his facial expressions. " Now
the middle one." The Chief was this time greeted with the convincingly accurate smell of fresh fish. "And now the
right one" said Johnson with a noticeably dark tone. The Chief sniffed - cautiously, and almost fainted.
"Shit!"
"Shit!" cried Jenkins. He may have lost his memory, but he knew what a grenade launcher looked like.
"Chief he's got-" at that moment the Chief's patience cracked. Maybe it was his splitting headache, maybe it was
his old age, or maybe he just wasn't the highly disciplined and well- trained Spartan he had been a decade ago. The
Master Chief elbowed Jenkins in the temple and thought nothing of it - Jenkins slumped to the floor. At the same
time, The Chief delivered a swift punch to the barrel of the grenade launcher pointed at his chest, and it bounced off
of a wall in the narrow, well light, white hallway beyond the elevator. He then delivered a not-so-swift punch to take
out the guns owner. He was truly surprised to find that his fist made contact with air. He was even more surprised to
find that he had just been punched in the stomach. If he had been ten years younger he would have reacted to the
situation twice as quickly. But he was so surprised at his opponent's speed that he was punched again, and then a
third time. But this wasn't a tranquilizer to the back of the neck, and the Chief dodged his opponent's next punch
and brought his fist down upon the man's head. The Chief was surprised a third time to see that his opponent did not
go down, but instead struggled up. The Chief delivered another blow to the man's head, who finally collapsed.
Immediately the Chief hauled the man up and put him into a firm headlock. The man was too tenacious for his own
good though, and he struggled furiously.
"Stand still damn it, I'm not trying to hurt you." Said the Chief in a voice harsher than he meant. The man
stopped struggling and listened.
"Thank you. Now I'd like to know why I was taken hostage." The man was silent for a few seconds and
then said,
"Wait, you don't sound Canadian."
"Thanks for noticing." Said the Chief in an agitated voice. "It's because I'm not Canadian, so if that's the
reason I was captured, you and your friends were seriously mistaken." He released the man from his headlock and
stood back - big mistake. The man threw a punch, but the Chief was ready and he quickly put the man back into the
headlock. The man immediately began to rant.
"Hah! Id you really think I would fall for that? Just because you don't sound Canadian dosen't mean you
aren't-" The Chief tightened his grip on the man and began to walk - he knew the man was stalling for
reinforcements.
"I am telling you, I'm not Canadian, and I have no idea what leads you to believe that." Said the Chief as a
hauled the man past various doors and took a left on a fork in the hall.
"Bullshit, you were seen at a Canadian Circus yesterday evening - we have surveillance of it." The Chief
actually smiled at this information.
"So you've been watching me? Good, you can tell me what I've been up to the last twenty-four hours,
because I don't remember a damn thing." The Chief suddenly found himself in a very large room resembling a mess
hall; he also noticed many dark clad figures emerging from doors all around him. Despite this, and a steadily
worsening headache he continued to talk to his captive.
"Look, isn't there some test you could give me, to prove I'm not Canadian?"
"Hah! For a Canadian scumbag, you are pretty smart. We do have a test actually. But I'm positive it will
only confirm my beliefs. Oi Johnson, go fetch me.the test." The Chief's captive called out to a certain man
position behind a table, holding the same sniper rifle-type weapon all the others had. He immediately left the
cafeteria, apparently off to fetch the test." The Chief spent the next minute or so sizing up the situation. There were
47 armed men and women all pointing sniper rifles in his general direction. The Chief noticed that not many of them
really knew what they were doing.He was dealing with amateurs. Just then, Johnson burst through the double
doors he had from which he had exited the room. He was carrying a large black briefcase, which he finally set down
on a table before the Chief. Apparently very pleased with his work so far, the man then took several boards out of
the case, and removed the top one from the pile.
"Alright - to pass the test, you must get each of these multiple choice questions right. If you succeed, we
will know that you are not Canadian." The Chief raised his eyebrow as Johnson flipped the board to face the chief.
There were three pictures on the board. And although the Chief did not know who anyone in the pictures were, here
is their description. On the left, was a picture of Celine Dion, in the middle, Brittany Spears, and on the right,
Woopie Goldberg.
"Which of these women do you feel attracted to most?" asked Johnson. The Chief thought for a moment.
He had never been in a relationship, but he knew that there was something wrong with the woman on the left, and
the woman in the middle didn't feel right - almost fake. He settled with the smiling black woman on the right.
Johnson frowned, but said,
" Odd choice, but correct. You still have two more questions though." He took out the next board, which
had three more pictures on it. On the right, was a picture of a Can of a popular soft drink, in the middle was a picture
of a large block of cheese - reminiscent to the one that he had seen Jenkins being tortured with. He suddenly
remembered Jenkins, and wondered were the hell he was, he didn't have time to brood on the subject though,
because he then noticed that he was being timed. The picture on the right was of a large juicy looking hamburger.
" Which of these would you prefer?" asked Johnson. The Chief went with the hamburger. soft drinks
rotted your bones, and that piece of cheese looked revolting.
"Correct, but don't get cocky, no Canadian could pass this last test." He took the last board, which was
significantly smaller than the other two, and tossed it over to The Chief. He caught it with his free hand and saw that
it was some kind of scratch and sniff. " I want you to sniff the left square first." The Chief complied, and was
greeted with the tranquil scent of a lovely field of roses. Johnson seemed to be noting his facial expressions. " Now
the middle one." The Chief was this time greeted with the convincingly accurate smell of fresh fish. "And now the
right one" said Johnson with a noticeably dark tone. The Chief sniffed - cautiously, and almost fainted.
"Shit!"