Well, it's official. I have surpassed Metal Storm as the longest fanfic I have ever written. Forty chapters and over 214,000 words. It is thanks to all your reviews that I've made it this far. Thanks to all of you, and here's to many, many more chapters in the future.
Man, I always knew I was long-winded...
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 40: Supply Drop
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Bertram walked through the castle halls towards his parents rooms. He had been recalled to Royalis immediately when word of the sinking of the Gigantic had reached the ears of the courts. His wing was at the base in the city on standby until his father had said what he needed to say. Bertram's mind jumped unbidden to that last image of the enemy pilot he had killed, Horos, his face fixed in fear.
He shook his head to clear the image and then continued down the hallway. When he reached the door, he gave a tentative knock. A moment passed before he heard a reply.
"Enter."
Bertram took a steadying breath, squared his shoulders, and prepared for whatever rebuke his family had for him. He opened the door and saw his mother sitting by the window, his father standing by her, and then he gazed right and saw Flaire laying down by the fireplace, a worried, yet guarded expression on her muzzle. Her eyes were open but they were grey, almost lifeless. He saw stains on her face where it looked like she had been crying. Bertram remained at attention and came before his father.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" James looked at his youngest son and nodded.
"Quite frankly Bertram I don't know what to do with you. You throw together a half-baked plan, take off from Stonefort before the ink on the base commander's approval orders is even dry, then you engage a Rotarian jet group, all but cut a man in half with your cannons as he bails out." Bertram grimaced at that but James pretended not to notice.
"Then you attack your own brother, leap from the deck of the carrier, place yourself and your brother in the blast radius of the enemy rocket attacks. Then you finally decide to get your head on straight and then do some foolhardy maneuvering to grab hold of the rocket and turn it back on the enemy sub, sinking it. I could go on but at this time what's the point." James took a moment to steady himself before looking Bertram in the eyes.
"I've been hearing nothing but pleas to have you relieved of duty until you can center yourself again. The only reason you haven't been yet is because of a letter I recieved from Lord Kai Ayatane, Michijo's father, pleading with me to show compassion and mercy. The Ayatane clan believe that when one has wronged you, you must make them answer for their crimes. You announced in a very...vicious way...that Ayatane's death struck a cord within you. True the man you shot down wasn't the man who killed Ayatane but to go after like you did was inexcuseable. If I had any sense as a Father I would have you relieved and reassigned to Royalis where I could keep an eye on you." Bertram felt a tear forming in his eye. James then looked back to his son.
"But because your mother would make me regret that choice, I have no alternative. Bertram de Launces, under any other circumstances, sinking the enemy submarine Gigantic and protecting Peninsula City would see you promoted and decorated for your heroics. However, your misdeed has overshadowed your heroics and thus, you are not to be promoted but neither shall you be demoted. Nor are you to recieve any commendations for your actions because they needlessly endangered the fleet and your brother who is, rank wise, a superior officer." Bertram nodded that he understood and then lowered his gaze. James, unbeknownst to Bertram, smiled.
"Now that I've said what needed to be said..." James came forward and embraced his son, much to Bertram's shock.
"You flew! You actually flew! I knew that some day this would happen...I just...never thought your first flight would be during a time of war..." As James released his son, Bertram saw his mother stand and likewise embrace him. Bertram suddenly remembered the last time his mother had hugged him like that was when a dragon in the Dracocorps had called him a flightless lizard because he couldn't fly and that he'd never be a dragon. Bertram returned the hug and allowed tears to flow freely.
"Mom...I'm a dragon now." Lysa heard this and she too teared up.
"My son...my beautiful son...you were always a dragon. It doesn't matter if you can fly or not. What is important is what is in your heart." James gave a small cough and motioned his head towards Flaire.
"Your mother and I have matters to attend to. It is obvious that the two of you have some catching up to do and so we shall leave you alone for the time being."
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As the door shut, Bertram shifted to dragon form and approached Flaire who sensed his aura and turned to him. He could sense she was afraid but of what he couldn't say. He took a breath to steady himself.
"Flaire..." She looked to him, tears reforming in her eyes.
"Let me guess. Now that you can fly you believe you can do better than a blind female." Bertram was stunned that she would even think such a thing and came close to her and nuzzled her, draped a wing over her, and reached his tail around to wrap around hers.
"You believe me so callous? Flaire...I messed up in the field, I own that. But I would never forsake you for your injury no more than you did for me. There's a human saying that absense makes the heart grow fonder, and let me tell you, I fully believe in that. All this time I was seperated from you, my mind was fixated on one thing and one thing only. You." Flaire let her mouth hang open in shock as he said this and she felt the sincerity in his words and smiled.
"All this time...I've been foolish, thinking that now that you're no longer grounded, you no longer loved me." Bertram chuckled and came around and kissed her, much to her surprise.
He held the kiss long and deep, reluctantly breaking the kiss and smiling.
"Does that answer your question?" Flaire flushed and nodded, smiling broadly.
"It does indeed. So...where do we go from here?" Bertram gazed out the window and then back to Flaire.
"Well...you know me. I cannot start a family while we're in the middle of a war. But...knowing that you're here for me when I return from my missions is encouragement enough to keep me from doing something stupid." She laughed at that, which made Bertram chuckle and he then turned to face her.
"Flaire. I give you my word. Once the war is over, I'm marrying you, and I swear to you you will never be wont for anything else. I'll make everything up to you, every mistake I made, every reckless chance I took, every stupid stunt I did. I'll answer for it all." Flaire chuckled at that and nuzzled her mate and sighed.
"For a moment I was starting to think you'd say that you were going to behave like our ancestors did when they became mated." Bertram looked to her.
"Which is...?" She leaned in and whispered into his ear frill and Bertram turned from silver to bright red and started chuckling nervously.
"W-Wow..." Flaire laughed.
"Indeed. It was said that newly mated dragons never emerged from their lairs for the first moon. In fact, being newly mated was once a legitimate excuse for almost anything. It was socially unacceptable to barge in on a pair of dragons while they were...consumating their love for each other." Bertram grinned mischieviously.
"Well then, I'd damn well better do my best to make it back to you alive and in one peace." Flaire bent her neck around and mimicked the earlier kiss that left both dragons breathless and she smiled.
"You'd better."
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James was soon at the cryptology office of the Intelligence service and the chief officer gave a sharp whistle to get everyone's attention. They all turned and faced their king. The military members of the officer saluted, the civilians bowed respectfully before straightening. James nodded and gazed at every single man and woman in the office before starting speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your efforts in creating the new codes and also for completely reengineering the Enigma machine. It is at this moment that I now can tell you what your hard work has been angled towards. This code and the new machine is going to be the code used to communicate with the Resistance groups and cells throughout the Rotarian occupied zones. One code for each sector so that if the enemy cracks one they cannot take down the others." The people clapped and cheered until James raised his hands to quiet them.
"I also have one further announcement. This office, the Office of Cryptology and Espionage, is hereby to be redesignated. From this day forward, the OCE is now the OSS. The Office of Strategic Services. You will be the handlers of the Resistance cells behind enemy lines. Any reports from them or requests shall come through this office. Any agents deployed into the occupied territory shall come from this office. The OSS will handle any and all manner of covert operations: demolition, espionage, sabotage, subversion, disruption, search and rescue, and many other things." The people in the office gasoed at the shocking change but quickly, they realized it made sense, and they started cheering again. James nodded and then waved a hand to the machine and codebook bound for Launces.
"The transport for Launces leaves in a few hours. I want that Enigma and codebook aboard before it leaves." As the office rushed about to comply with his orders, the Praetorian Major Epps came up and saluted but his face held a worried expression.
"Your Majesty, there's been a...complication. The pilot of the transport, Flight Lieutenant Barnes, has come down with a severe cold and is unable to fly the transport." James cursed and then looked to him.
"How quickly can you train a Syllian pilot to fly a Praetorian transport?"
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Bertram sat at the map table looking voer the map to the city of Launces. Beside him was a pilot fresh from the RAF Academy chosen to replace the ailing Lieutenant Barnes in flying the transport. Bertram and the 1st Air Wing would fly escort for the transports as they flew over Launces. The decision to use multiple Syllian transports to hide the Praetorian transport had been his idea so that the enemy AA gunners had too many targets. However, the chance of the supplies being intercepted weighed heavily on the minds of Colonel Faulkland and Major Epps.
"If we don't have a clue as to where the Resistance is we run the risk of the cipher, weapons, and codes falling into the hands of the enemy. Your Majesty, Your Highness, you're both from Launces, correct? Surely there must be something about the city that would make a good place for a base." James looked over the map and nodded.
"Well, for one, we know they're in Outer Launces. It's all farmland with a few sparce buildings, mills, barns, graneries, and a few medium sized buildings and a few abandoned old manor houses. If I recall correctly, Zafra has an affinity for her dragon form so she'd likely return to that form as soon as she possibly could. That would mean looking for a place that is close enough for a fast strike against the Tower to rescue POWs and is far enough or secluded enough to eliminate or minimize the risk of detection." Faulkland looked at James curiously.
"You mean a place large enough for two dragons to den up together when they aren't fighting? Are there many such places in Launces?" James shook his head.
"Once there was but after the Blue Flood all the possible places were either destroyed or filled in and forgotten...unless..."
"Unless?" James then gazed at the map closer.
"Okay, there's one answer we haven't looked at yet. The old Spillways and underground canal systems. During the flood, the spillways backed up causing the canals to flood which then flooded the streets. After the water receded, I had the gate on the Blue River only open to allow a minimum of water to fill the new canals. That way, the river would still be a viable route for grain barges and the like while not posing a danger of flooding during the seasonal rains." Bertram gazed at the map now.
"That eliminates Oscar's Mill, it's too close to the outer wall and would be the first place to be searched in the event of an attack. It also eliminates the Lorelai Farm because the access to the underground canal was destroyed and the tunnel was sealed. That leaves Albeir's Farm or Pierson's Mill. We also don't want to drop the supplies right on top of them because the enemy will investigate every dropped package, even the duds." James nodded. Bertram then pointed to the part of map marked as 'Albeir's Farm'.
"Plus, I seem to recall that the spillway at Albeir's Farm was bricked off and besides was too narrow for two dragons to live comfortably together. That means the only feasible location left is Pierson's Mill." James nodded again, satisfied with his son's logic.
"We are in agreement. Alright, I'll have the OSS contact the cell at Pierson's Mill and instruct them of the supply drop at Albeir's. Likely, the Rotarians haven't taken the time to memorize the locations or names of the farms or businesses and as such won't know one farm from another. Plus, with the old canals being connected, they can travel underground to avoid detection. They'll have to do something about the bridge though." Colonel Faulkland looked at him curiously.
"Bridge? What bridge?" James pointed at an area just outside the markings of the farm.
"Albeir's farmhouse lies on the opposite side of the north canal. There's only two ways to get to it. Cross the bridge over the canal or loop all the way through the city and exit from the north gate and come down the farm road and cross the small bridge up there." Bertram nodded.
"Take out the lower bridge and a ten minute drive becomes an hour and fifty minutes." James nodded.
"Exactly. Well then, let's get to it. Also Bertram, I want to have a word with you in a moment."
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(Launces)
ENCRYPTION KEY CONFIRMED
LINE STATUS: CLEAR
FLASH MESSAGE FROM ROYALIS TO LAUNCES. URGENT.
CELL NOW AUTHORIZED BY THE OSS. SUPPLY DROP LISTED FOR 2200 HOURS.
RECEIVER IS ALBEIR. MAKE HASTE AND ENSURE DESTRUCTION OF VITAL LAND LINES.
NOTE DECOYS WILL ALSO BE DEPLOYED TO OTHER AREAS.
GOOD LUCK.
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George set the new letter down and gazed to the partisans gathered around him. He had a gist of what the letter meant.
"Alright, our prayers have been answered. We have a supply drop coming tonight at ten. The plane will make the drop over Albeir's Farm and we'll have to retrieve the packages before the Rotarians arrive. Okay, Hazzard, I need some explosives." Hazzard nodded.
"What do you need?"
"I need something that can destroy small bridges. There are three bridges we need to destroy to to distract the enemy and divert their attention from the real drop. Plus, an incendiary to destroy the supply crates once we have the supplies. Hopefully the enemy will think the supplies broke and caught fire when they landed." Hazzard rubbed his beard slowly, thinking. Then looked up.
"I have about eight and a half feet of detcord, seven blocks of DEX5, and a whole crate of dynamite for explosives. As for incendiaries, I have bupkiss but I believe I have enough materials to mix up some thermite." George looked to him.
"Thermite? That's an incendiary that can melt steel right?" Hazzard nodded.
"That's right. Also can't be put out by water. Combine a seven stick dynamite bomb with three bags of thermite and you get a nice little explosion and a wildfire to boot. The only problem is that I don't have any timers for the dynamite. If someone sets those bombs, they'll have to light the fuses." George sighed as he realized what that meant.
"Which creates sparks which may set the thermite off prematurely...can dynamite alone bring down a bridge?" Hazzard scratched his chin and did the math in his head and then looked back at him.
"It can be done but...I'd need roughly six large dynamite bombs per bridge and I honestly don't have that much on hand. I can maybe, maybe, take out one bridge but not three..."
"I'll do it."
George turned to see Zafra and shook his head.
"Out of the question you-" Zafra growled.
"I am a dragon, I control not only the element of earth but I can also bend metal to my will. Furthermore, I am a de Launces and I will not stand by and watch people sacrifice themselves on something deemed dangerous. If we have only enough dynamte to destroy one bridge then use your strongest assets to destroy the remaining two. Hazzard can destroy the bridge close to the supply drop while Caldor and I destroy the others. Plus, the enemy sees dragons flying overhead, they're either going to panic and abandon their posts or call reinforcements from the rest of the occupation force."
George looked to her and then to Caldor and sighed.
"Alright. However, whichever of you destroys your bridge first you are to fly to the other immediately in case the enemy does decide to call reinforcements. Two dragons can do more damage together than seperate. Once both bridges are down, eliminate any forces capable of pursuit, and return to base. If all goes well, we'll be home shortly." Zafra nodded and she and Caldor departed as George turned back to the partisans.
"Alright, now, we have to go further down through here to reach the old aqueducts. Hazzard, take six with you so that it won't be just you out there. Alright. Amber, Miles, pick your squads and come with me."
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Bertram was amazed at the sight. Transports to the left, to the right, above and below, and yet the only one carrying actual cargo was the transport that was flying slightly forward and above him. For this mission, once again, his jet had been grounded, and he found himself piloting a blacked out P-32 with only Syllian markings and two fleurescent stripes on the wings and rudder to let the transports and other fighters know where he was.
"Paladin to all planes, radio check. We're almost to Launces. Get ready in case we have to engage enemy night fighters."
"Black Knight here. I copy wingleader."
"Bishop copies."
"Rook copies. Weapons are loaded."
"Paladin to all Postmen, once you're packages are delivered, hit the engine to full power and head for home."
"This is Postmaster, easy for you to say. None of the-"
"Postman 3 to Postmaster, shut the hell up about our cargo, this is an unsecured frequency!"
Bertram looked down as the young pilot in the Praetorian transport replied indignantly at the other pilot and checked his map and then gazed through the dark using his dragonsight to scan through the darkness. Moments later, he nodded.
"All planes, we just passed over the castle. Looks like the city is in a blackout." He then heard Dieter's voice come on.
"That's SOP for occupied territory. Turn out the lights so that no one from above can see your positions. If the enemy has any AA guns set up we won't know about them until they start firing."
At that moment, a bright light shined upward and illuminated one of the transports on the far edge of the formation. A loud whine shattered the silence and more and more lights came on and flak bursts began illuminating the air with quick plumes of flame. A loud explosion got Bertram's attention and he saw another transport take a round to the engine cowling and start falling.
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Postman 7, starboard engine is hit and we are going down! We're bailing out over what looks to be the power plants in the industrial sector."
Bertram cursed and watched as the crew of the transport jumped and the plane spiraled towards the ground. He checked his map again and then glanced around and cursed.
"Paladin to all planes, we are off target! I repeat: we are off target! Correct course ten degrees to starboard!" Bertram cursed as the transports slowly started to adjust their courses and he hoped that George was in position.
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Hazzard and his men held their positions as the few Rotarian soldiers marched by, the soles of their boots making a deep 'thump' as they each took a step. He thought of his situation and cursed. here he was, merely twenty feet from the bridge and yet he might as well be twenty miles.
(Of all the times for a night patrol, why'd it have to be tonight?)
Hazzard had counted on the bridge being lightly guarded, which, for a moment, it was but then a truck broke down and the sergeant of the group, determined not to have his men be late for whatever the hell the enemy had planned, had them dismount and start marching to their destination while the guards on the bridge started repairing the truck. The group had almost passed when a siren pierced the silence and lights suddenly flared up from distant places and guns started firing. In the air above, Hazzard heard the low droning of aircraft engines and saw little white clouds starting to drop slowly from the air.
He was close enough to a group of soldiers to see them pale and heard the sergeant in the distance shout.
"Paratroopers! All men ready your weapons!"
As if on que, the soldiers started firing upwards at the falling chutes. Seeing his chance, Hazzard and the group slipped down the embankment, into the stream, and swam to the bridge supports and started wiring the bombs.
"Listen up. There's an entrance to the aqueducts a little ways downstream. Once we light the fuses, you swim like hell and get to to the entrance. you get lost, look for the blue sign with the number fourteen on it. That's the entrance."
A moment later, the bombs were set, Hazzard was ready to light the fuses, and the soldiers above were still oblivious to their presense. They were still busy shooting the parachutes that were falling.
(Just as long as they don't hit the real supplies...)
Hazzard saw hit men, fuses and lighters ready, and gave the signal. Simultaneously, the sound of striking flints, hissing fuses, and the sight of small glowing embers confirmed that the fuses were burning. He then nodded to the men and pointed downstream.
As a group, they slipped into the water and started swimming, letting the current aid them in their exertions. Suddenly, Hazzard heard a yell and saw a bullet strike the water and then spared a glance to see three soldiers climbing down and yelling at their fellows that there were swimmers in the water. More bullets struck the water and he heard one of his men cry out and he glanced to see the man holding his arm, the water around him turning red. Hazzard flipped in the water, drew his sidearm, a revolver, and fired.
Only his shot wasn't aimed at any of the men.
It was aimed at the dynamite on the bridge.
A loud explosion nearly deafened him and a fireball erupted, illuminating the sky as the bridge rose in the center before crashing down into the stream. The screams of the soldiers and the sound of weapons fire was drowned out by the moans of the wounded, the dying, and the screams of the men who had fallen into the stream and were drowning, pinned under burning debris. Hazzard grabbed the wounded man before he was swept away and pushed him to his fellows who pulled him into the entrance. Hazzard took a moment and gazed back at the burning bridge and smiled.
"I always did have a problem with burning my bridges behind me."
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Caldor felt rather pleased with himself that he had already destroyed his bridge when not only the air raid sirens started but also off in the distance, a tell tale fireball marked the end of the second. Now all that was left was Zafra's bridge. He gazed upwards, already seeing the parachutes falling. The soldiers guarding the bridge had panicked and ran as he launched an attack that disabled their makeshift communications hut. Now more soldiers were firing into the air wildly, obviously thinking these were not supply crates but paratroopers. Caldor growled with disdain at their fear.
(If this truly was a paratroop raid, the lot of you bastards would be dead by now.)
He glanced towards where Zafra was and failed to see or hear anything conducive to a bridge collapsing and decided to wing over and investigate. As he closed, he saw Zafra engaging the enemy on the ground, then he saw several AA guns in an upwards firing position, their crews looking smug. He immediately realized what had happened.
(Those bastards! They forced her to land and now she's being overrun. If she falls then...)
He realized that either the capture or killing of Zafra would be detrimental to not only the Resistance but also his health and he decided to liven things up a bit.
Mainly by blasting the living hell out of the AA guns keeping Zafra grounded.
He fired a beam of light at the closest gun, detonating the poorly stored ammo piled nearby which knocked the brakes off the cannon and sent it rolling into a group of soldiers, down an embankment, and into the canal. The other AA gun, realizing there were two dragons, was quickly being cranked to where it could fire on Caldor, however, just as the crew lined up the sight, a large chunk of rock lifted up in front of the gun, forcing it into an almost vertical firing position. The soldier on the lanyard, evidentally unused to combat against a dragon, yanked the trigger device and fired the weapon.
The shell came up, turned in midair, and came down, detonating just over the gun crew's heads.
Needless to say the shell created quite a mess.
Zafra, now free from the risks of being blasted out of the air, took off, her wings buffeting the soldiers and sent several of them rolling down the embankment to the canal or rolling along the road. One notable one was a sergeant getting turned around and smashing his face into a steel support beam for the bridge.
Zafra spared no time to enjoy herself however and started harnessing her mana. She used the earth the seperate the foundation from the bridge, weakening it, and then used her power over metal to twist and warp major supports. She was rewarded by the sounds of rivets popping, steel creaking and buckling, and support rods and ties bending and some smaller supports actually shearing themselves free as the full weight of the bridge came down on them. Then, almost like a house of cards, the bridge came apart and crumbled into the canal. No large chunks of debris were visible, no, Zafra had completely disassembled the bridge allowing it to come apart completely and crash into the canal. She gazed at Caldor who chuckled.
"Not as flashy as I would have done it but still, impressive." Despite herself, Zafra felt the scales around her face grow warm at the praise, the edges of her maw also lifed up in a small smile. Though she didn't say it, this was the largest deconstruction she had ever done. She then felt her strength drain and suddenly felt a presense by her side as her eyes drooped.
Opening her eyes, she saw Caldor beside her, supporting her through the air. He smiled as she noticed him.
"I think it would be prudent to return to the lair before nodding off, don't you think?" Zafra nodded and forced herself to stay awake as they winged back to the lair. As they flew through the air, Zafra felt her senses sharpen. She became aware of Caldor's heartbeat, his breathing, and sensed how strong it was, and sensed how dedicated and loyal he was to not only the Resistance but to his comrades as well.
(What could possess a dragoness not to want a mate like him?) She almost blurted out the question but then saw his eyes and she knew why.
(Because of the past, of crimes he is blameless for...yet they only see him as the son of a traitor...They don't care enough to get to know the soul beneath the exterior...I wonder...)
Had she been able to read minds, she would have discovered Caldor lamenting that his mind was in conflict with his heart. To Caldor's mind, most dragonesses (at least the ones he knew) tended to use their elements and stay out of direct conflict. Not many, hell none of them, would even consider landing and engaging the enemy with tail, claw, and fang. A pity that he wasn't born to a different father, or he might have actually stood a chance at someday, when this is over, finding a mate.
Maybe even her. Even Zafra.
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George and his group climbed out of the tunnel near the farm in time to see the white chutes from the supply drop billowing in the wind. The crates meant for them came down almost right in front of them and Amber cheered and ran for the closest crate. In the distance, the bridge that Hazzard had dynamited burned ferociously. George turned to Miles and smiled.
"Remind me to give Hazzard a medal when we get back. Or at least once Launces is free." Miles nodded and started breaking open the other crates. Inside one, he found a note and whistled for George to come over and handed him the note.
My Son,
As you are no doubt aware now, the Rotarians have gained more than just Launces. Thankfully, by writing this letter, I may be able to assuage the fear that we are defeated. Rest assured that we have not yet begun to fight and shall continue to resist and fight back as long as possible. Even now we have secured some small victories. Just a week ago, your brothers sank an enemy submarine and managed to secure Peninsula City from attack.
I have directed some of our forces and our allies to make the city a landing point to force the enemy into fighting on a second front. Doubtless the enemy will fight us every step of the way but that is inevitable. The Rotarians are a stubborn enemy but the generals assure me that they have overextended themselves. Attempting to hold so much under their control of an...absentee ruler is a mix for failure. They will not be able to supress all the Resistance cells that will inevitably spring up from the occupied cities and towns they now oppress.
I now give you this order, not as your Father but as your Commander, I hereby appoint you to be the leader of the Resistance cells in Launces. I have high hopes that you will find more such groups as you enter the city and manage to win back some small victories for us. I will not ask for daily updates because that runs the risk of detection. Instead, the Resistance will act through the Office of Strategic Services or OSS. They will provide intel to you and it will be up to you to act on it or not. Enclosed in one of the boxes is a new type of cypher as well as an encryption key, a new type of coding machine we've taken to calling 'ULTRA', and a list of high value targets and strategic targets of high importance in your area.
Act swiftly and decisively.
Your Father,
J.
George hastily folded the letter and placed it in his coat pocket as the rest of the equipment was inspected, broken down and moved into the aqueduct. George caught a glimpse of the coding machine and knew what its arrival meant.
The Resistance was now active. And their mission was simple.
Raise as much hell as possible and avoid capture.
The Battle for Launces has only just begun...
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Whew! Alright! Got this one done. As always, I hope ya'll like it. Man, it hardly seems like half the year's gone by already, huh? Just a few short months ago I was bundling up to keep warm and getting psyched for the premier of Star Wars Episode 7 and now here we are, enjoying the new Captain America movie, the Angry Birds movie, and the Louisiana humidity is starting to show itself.
That and the mosquitoes. I HATE those things. I mean, being a Christian I believe God has a purpose for all things but what, in the name of all that is holy, is the purpose for the mosquito other than to suck blood, infect people with deadly viruses and diseases, and annoy them with that high pitched whine when they fly past your ears?
Ah well, no matter, as long as I've got a flyswatter handy, I'm good.
Next Time: The Abandoned Cistern