Andrew Mackay - Pink Symphony

Dimitri’s chest opened up in a haze of blood, sending him crashing to the ground.

The crowd screamed bloody murder and dispersed in all directions, pushing into each other.

A violent and desperate dash to escape the shooter – wherever he or she was.

Civilians crushed against and over each other in a dash to get to safety. Men, women, and children. The security guards fired indiscriminately at the crowd, hoping to catch the perpetrator.

The bleeding Dimitri lay on the floor, coughing and spluttering. The bullet had torn through his lungs.

“My God, did you see that?” Dreenagh billowed into her forearm, fending off the stampede rollicking behind her. “Look, look. Dimitri Vasilov has been assassinated!”

Her drone buzzed around the podium along with many others, trying to get a decent view of the carnage.

BAM !

Two security guards fired at the wasp-like drones. Their bullets hit some of them, punching them out of the air.

“Target eliminated,” Denny’s voice came through Handax’s earpiece over the sound of a car engine firing up followed his instruction. “Over to you, guys.”

“Okay, go!”

Handax, Leif, and Moses stormed over to the compound side entrance, pulling their balaclavas over their heads. The door was bolted shut but unguarded.

“Moses, the two guards have moved off. I figure you have about thirty seconds.”

“I know, I know,” he clamped a rectangular device across the door’s bolt. “I only need fifteen.”

Handax held his hand gun in both hands and watched the screaming crowd run off. No one spotted Handax and Leif keeping an eye out for security, much less the firearms in their hands.

“Twenty-five seconds, Moses.”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Moses lifted the flap of his device and punched in a three digit code: 4-5-7. “The code is in. Nearly there.”

Handax turned to Leif, keeping a tight grip on his gun. “Any sign of security?”

“Not yet, no,” Leif watched the ink on her forearm countdown from twenty. She scanned at the corner of the building. “It’s only a matter of time before they return. Hurry up, Moses.”

“Okay, five seconds till we’re in,” Moses said, stepping back from the door. “Five… four…”

Leif spotted the security guard walking around the corner of the building with his colleague. “Guys, we got company.”

The pair headed straight for them.

“… three…”

“They’re coming, they’re coming. We gotta get in now before we’re seen.”

“Two…” Moses finished through the earpieces, “One… and, we’re in business.”

The door didn’t unbolt. The tactical device failed and spluttered, slumping against the handle.

“Damn.”

“What?” Handax turned to Moses. “What’s going on?”

“It didn’t work.”

“Guys,” Leif backed up to the two men, ready to threaten the guards who’d yet to clock them. “We’re seconds away from being spotted.”

“What do we do?”

“You and your stupid technology!” Handax clipped Moses around the back of the head. Fast-thinking, he jumped out from the corner and made his presence known to the approaching guards. “Excuse me.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Leif ducked behind the door, unseen by the two guards as they approached her leader with their weapons drawn.

“Hey, you! Put the gun down.”

Handax pointed his hand gun at them and smiled. Leif and Moses did the same.

“No, I think you put yours down,” Handax said.

“We’re not messing around,” one of the security guards kept his sights focused on Moses and Handax. “This is a private zone. Drop your weapons and remove your masks, or we will shoot you.”

Handax kept an eye on the compound door and aimed his gun at the second security guard. “No, I don’t think so.”

An abrasive stand-off occurred. The five of them pointed their weapons at each other.

“I said lower your weapons, civilian!” screamed the first guard.

“Okay, now!” Handax blasted the second guard’s weapon out of his hand.

The first guard took a shot at Handax’s head. Leif barged against guard’s elbow, forcing the trajectory of the bullet away.

“Oww!”

She jumped onto his back and wrapped her legs around his waist, jamming the barrel of her gun against his temple. “Hey, sweetie. Gonna let us in?”

Moses snatched the shotgun from of the security guard’s hands and strapped it over his shoulder. “Be quiet.”

Handax kicked the second security guard’s gun away and grabbed his collar, lifting him to his feet.

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” the second guard asked in a state of near-paralysis, “Please d-don’t kill me.”

“We’re not the murderers, murderer .” Handax kicked the guard toward the door. “Now, open the door.”

Leif removed the first guard’s helmet, revealing a reasonably attractive man underneath it.

“Ooh, you’re hot.”

“Get off of me. Please.”

“Nah, I like it here,” she giggled, squeezing his waist from behind with her thighs. “Nice of you to give me a ride.”

“Leif!” Handax shot her a look of disdain and waved his gun at her. “Stop flirting with the bad guys.”

“Aww,” she climbed off his back and kept her gun held at his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying she wouldn’t blow his brains out. “Maybe after all this is over?”

“Get off him. We have work to do,” Handax thumped his captor on the back, “Open the door. Now!”

“Okay, okay,” the guard punched three digit code on the door where Moses’ device had failed. “I’m doing it.”

Handax pressed his finger to his ear, pacing around. “Denny, man? Do you read me?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“Umm,” came his voice, “I’m in the middle of threatening someone right now. Can I call you back?”

A dozen USARIC security cars tore across the airfield behind Denny’s van. Their sirens wailed and screeched as they gained on him.

“Sure, man,” Handax’s voice came through the car’s speakers. “ Just head back to base.”

“Very funny,” Denny spun the steering wheel to the left, forcing his van to change trajectory. He swiped his forearm, cutting off the call and looked in the rear view mirror. “Come on, cretins. Let’s see if you can do one hundred.”

The USARIC vehicles grew larger and larger as he stepped on the gas. 80 mph… 90 mph…

“Come on, come on...”

“Driver,” a voice through a megaphone on top of an approaching USARIC SUV whirled through the air, “Pull your vehicle over. Now.”

“Nu-uh,” Denny slammed on the gas with all his might. He rolled down the driver’s window and pushed out his hand, flipping his assailants the bird. “Come and get me, scumbags!”

Denny’s van rocketed across the runway. In the distance, a three-quarter-built cone-shaped spacecraft loomed, facing upright within its scaffolding. On its side in giant, black lettering read Space Opera Charlie .

“Huh?” Denny muttered in astonishment, tearing his concentration away from the airstrip. “ Charlie ?”

BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!

The mercenaries in each USARIC SUV opened fired on Denny’s van as they zoomed toward the incomplete spacecraft. Dozens of bullets sprayed against the back doors. The left one bust open and flapped back and forth.

105 mph…

Space Opera Charlie got closer and closer as Denny kept his foot on the gas. He pressed his forearm and held his right ear, struggling to keep control of the rickety van. The vehicle wasn’t used to these kind of speeds.

“Handax, you read me, man?” Denny yelled. “You read me?”