Chapter 3: Half Time
Ferguson's Sports Bar, Emerald, Freemantle. 12th July 1998. 16:47 GMT
"What an interest first half of football," Des said on the screen.
"Before we go on; I must say the ref and linemen need their eyes tested," James said. "How can anyone let Tiger's second goal count?"
"This just adds to the case to bring in video refereeing," Air said.
"What other highlights would you pick out from the match so far?" Des asked.
"Jack Laser," Gary said. "He is making the Tiger national team look like a bunch of amateurs," on the screen was footage of Jack Laser in the match, "and this is the world cup final."
Sonic and Stars were at the bar. Most people got up to either go to the toilet or get more drinks.
"Another pint of Amnesia mate," Sonic shouted to the barman. "That ref needs his eyes tested," he said to Stars.
"You're not one to talk," Stars answered, "without your contacts; you're blind as a bat."
"Fine enough. But that second goal should never have been allowed."
"I know. It's an outrage."
Pride Leon II stadium, Africa, Lion. 12th July 1998. 20:47 GMT 4+.
In the stadium most people were going to get food or drink and go to the toilet. The assassins decided to make their move.
They were going to the toilets to check their weapons to make sure they were loaded and worked (they had to do it (no dirty thoughts) in the toilet because there were no cameras). Then there would go down to the lower levels of the stadium, go in to the boiler room and up to the boxes to kill the heads of state.
In the toilets it was packed. Everyone just wanted to get their business done quickly and get back to the seats.
The assassins had to go into a toilet cubical one at a time. The group checked their clips to make sure they were fully loaded and that their guns were working.
They were.
In the cubical, the head assassin kissed his silver pistol before he got out of it.
In the CCTV control room was the head steward. He was looking for something to keep the stewards busy so the assassins could seek pass. The assassins would have been able to pass them but the cameras and stewards would be focus on them.
The head steward was looking at all the screens to find something that the stewards could sort out.
Then the head steward saw something that he wanted.
"SEND STEWARDS TO THAT SECTION RIGHT NOW!" the head steward shouted, pointing to a screen.
What the head steward was pointing to was a fight. It was between two Freemantlish fans: a tiger and a brown Labrador. The tiger was pushing the Labrador towards the wall and the Labrador was punching the tiger in the back.
The two were most possibly fighting because the Labrador said something stupid because he would have assumed that the tiger should support Tiger, in other word something racist.
The stewards rushed quickly to break up the tiger and the dog, whiles the assassins went down to the lower levels unchallenged.
Ferguson's Sports Bar, Emerald, Freemantle. 12th July 1998. 16:53 GMT.
In the bar the group had their drink re-filled and their bladders emptied; all that was left was for the match to start.
All the fans were wanting and hoping to second half to be better for Freemantle: the team needed two goals at least for victory, but anything can happen in football.
"If that ref going to give more criminal decisions then I'm going to have him," Sonic said.
"And how would you find out his address and details?" Knuckles asked.
"I'll use Tails."
"That's all the world need," Glides said sarcastically, "child slavery."
"He had been doing it for years," Stars said. "Well, all of us have."
"I assume you're taking about Claws and your sisters," Glides said.
"Yeah," Stars answered.
"From the changing rooms there is a lot of shouting in the Freemantlish room: but all that was from the Paul King," the sport reporter (a 44-year-old seal) said. "Whiles in the Tiger room they are ecstatic."
"Thank you Nelson," Des said.
Pride Leon II stadium, Africa, Lion. 12th July 1998. 20:55 GMT 4+.
"I'm just going to have a smoke," a guard said to his two partners.
Three guards (all lions (not stewards, police bodyguards dressed as stewards)) were standing outside the boiler room. It was a pretty obvious place to go to get to the king, the pride and the president.
The assassins were coming along the corridor. The head assassin was a couple of foot steps in front of the others. As he got to where the corridor turns into a corner he stood with his back against the wall and took a look around the corner to see the guards.
He saw that the guards had no weapons in sight; so he can take them on before they could react.
The assassin reached into his T-shirt, kissed it for good luck and jumped out from the corner and shot two bullets from the silent pistol and hit both guards. One bullet hit one of the guards in the head and died immediately, but other was shot in the lung and even though he was down, he was alive.
"MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!" the head assassin shouted. He knew they had to be quick because it wouldn't be long before a guard or a steward would find to bodies on the floor.
The assassins quickly regrouped and were about to enter the boiler room.
"Don't move!" the reminding guard said, holding a black pistol upwards towards the head assassin.
The group of communist assassins just laughed at him. How could a dying man fight five trained assassins?
The youngest assassin (a man of 23 years of age, a man in a Freemantlish football shirt) took out his pistol, aimed at the guard's head.
"Oh God, oh God," the guard said. He never pictured his life ending like this.
"Goodbye," the young assassin said in his African sounding voice.
He shot the guard in the head: quick and painless.
The assassins moved into the boiler room, put on their masks (two pigs, a pig and two sharks) and went into the air ducts.
Ferguson's Sports Bar, Emerald, Freemantle. 12th July 1998. 16:47 GMT.
"Here the teams, ready for the second half."