Victory doesn’t come from ghosts, spirits, or astrological calculations. It comes from people – people who know the enemy – Sun Tzu
Operation Menu: Phase Lunch (D+7.5 Hours)
With a deep-throated growl, the dump truck's engine stirred, vibrating the cabin. The pungent aroma of low-quality vinyl hung in the air, filling every nook and cranny of the interior. As the heavy doors of the truck swung closed with a resounding thud, Tauru and Heather exchanged a synchronized glance, their mutual exasperation evident. Swiftly, their hands reached for the manual window cranks, the glass descending with a faint, rhythmic whirr.
Their synchronized sighs of relief blended into the air, mingling with the anticipation that hung heavy. Heather seized the opportunity to escape the vinyl-scented confines, her head poking out of the open window to drink in the fresher atmosphere beyond.
"Ready to roll," Heather announced, a hint of wry humor lacing her voice as if acknowledging the absurdity of their predicament.
Her gesture was met with a ghost of a smile from Tauru, the corners of his lips twitching upward.
Guided by Tauru's practiced hands, the vehicle navigated the narrow thoroughfare, each gear shift accompanied by a protesting groan from the beleaguered engine. The one-way street unfurled before them like a forgotten ribbon, leading toward a looming hill crowned with rough-hewn boulders. The truck lumbered onward, its mechanical defiance clashing with the challenge ahead, as if it, too, sensed the next task at hand.
"I did a Tarot reading before we hit the road," Heather revealed, her voice carrying a blend of hope and determination that danced in the air.
With a purposeful stretch, Tauru leaned out of the window, his fingers deftly adjusting the truck's side mirror.
"As did I," he confessed, a touch of wry amusement edging into his words. "But the cards, they remained silent about the path to an instant victory. It's like the city's programmers have locked away the secrets of the Akashic record."
Restless energy pulsed through Heather, her maroon one-piece overalls a stark canvas for her restive fidgeting. Fingers danced over the sturdy zipper, a subtle dance of tension as she sought relief from the material that embraced her form. The fabric, determined to hold its shape, clung to her curves, creating discomfort that she couldn't ignore. In a moment of quiet vulnerability, she tugged at the cloth, the pinch of pressure between her breasts reminded her that she should have had them fitted before she left.
“I’m actually shocked that Red didn’t declare war on the Tower, there’s what…1,500 people there?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, but I think the shit birds are a bit distracted with Gold Team nipping at their heels and two crews declaring war ass deep in their turf,” Tauru replied.
A low beep echoed in their ears.
“I’ll read it; you drive,” Heather said gesturing with her fingers.
> RE: Heights Assault
> Launching raids from different directions.
> Red moving reserve teams to reinforce the zone.
> Blue: 2 KIA / Red: 10 KIA, 20 wounded
> Go gettem’ Thornewoods. Luv’ Ya Blue! Boss Cat Marko
“Wow, ten reds dead so fast?” said Heather.
“Probably had crews in place ready to fuck them as soon as the clock started,” Tauru said.
With a resigned huff, Heather finally surrendered her battle against the stubborn zipper, sinking back into the cool embrace of the vinyl seat. The rough texture of her pants grated against the seat's surface, a tactile reminder of the journey's every bump and turn.
Amidst the rhythmic hum of the engine, a fierce growl erupted as Tauru accelerated.
As the paved road gave way to an unassuming dirt feeder path, the truck's tires gripped the uneven terrain. A metallic symphony of creaks and rattles accompanied the vehicle's entry onto this untamed path. With calculated precision, the truck's bulk maneuvered into a sharp turn, the tires clinging to the dirt with a tenacious grip. The path ahead, a serpentine ribbon etched into the hillside, beckoned them upward, each twist and turn forced Tauru to turn the wheel quickly.
The dump truck continued to climb up the steep incline and he dropped gears.
Across the mental communication barrier, T.C.'s voice shot across the internal network,
“Infiltration 2, this is Infiltration 1, we got eyes on you over. Begin phase two.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Heather picked up the hand mike and clicked it a few times and said, “10-4 this is D-Rude,
clear of commie bears, 10-8 in 3, 88 ta’ ya Checkers.”
Tauru's eyebrow raised in response.
Heather's retort came swift and unapologetic, her voice laced with a touch of playful defiance. "What? I got a CB for my tenth birthday."
Tauru's muttered response about having a disappointing childhood caused Heather to go into a fit of giggles.
The truck's acceleration, a steady surge of power, harmonized with the growing incline, propelling them into a realm where gravity's pull grew stronger. The vinyl seats cradled them as the force pressed them backward, up the recline. The truck turned sharply right. The dump truck hugged curves and crags, they were drawn ever closer to the heart of the ascent.
"You never mentioned the reading you did right before we took off," Heather remarked, a note of curiosity tinged in her voice.
Tauru's response held an air of casual dismissal. "It wasn't anything important."
The flicker of annoyance that crossed Heather's face morphed into a determined scowl.
"Don't give me that 'nothing' nonsense. I've seen that expression on your face."
"What expression?" Tauru's curiosity feigned innocence, a well-practiced mask.
Heather's response was swift, her words punctuated by the animated gestures of her hands.
"That one – the mix of irritation, confusion, and who knows what else. It's like your thoughts are battling it out and no one is winning."
Tauru's sigh was a quiet acknowledgment of defeat as his fingers threaded through his raven-black hair.
His voice lowered to a confidential tone and carried the weight of his confession. "I pulled the Happy Rabbit card."
A crinkle formed on Heather's nose, accompanied by a lopsided grin that was uniquely hers.
"Happy Rabbit? Seriously?"
Tauru's lips curved into a rueful smile, his eyes softening under the playful scrutiny.
"I thought Boss Kitty was fuckin’ with my cards again. You know how she feels about fortune-telling. Anyway, she swore up and down she didn't."
The exchange hung in the air like a shared secret, the tangle of emotions and connections weaving a bond between them that went beyond words.
As the truck continued its journey, a collection of stones caught their attention, piled one atop the other in a whimsical tower by the roadside. Their passage brought them closer to the gatehouse, a mere 300 meters away. Yet, it was what lay just beyond these entry barriers that drew Tauru's gaze.
Amidst the approaching landscape, a gleaming sentinel emerged – a tower of polished metal, soaring in height. Its metallic surface caught and reflected the sunlight, a presence that beckoned their curiosity.
“Get your game face on,” he whispered. “We are going to fuck up some Reds.”
Tauru leaned in, his intent gaze fixed on the sight ahead, only to be abruptly engulfed by a searing brilliance that consumed his vision in a blinding explosion of light.
His ears rang and he felt himself being thrown into the air.
“What the fuck was that?” he thought as he slammed into the ground after bouncing a few times.
As his senses gradually cleared, the world unveiled itself before him. Perched on the rim of a crater, he surveyed the aftermath—a chaotic canvas of scorching debris that painted the ground white-hot. Above, a somber mushroom cloud painted the sky, its ominous form lingering like a haunting brushstroke.
Seated nonchalantly at the precipice, Tauru made no effort to escape the gaping maw that had swallowed him moments ago. Instead, he retrieved a cigarette from the depths of his overalls. Illuminating its tip with a fragment of shrapnel that still glowed with the fervor of the explosion, he cast an eerie and surreal light on his surroundings.
Inclining his pants leg, he unveiled a patch of skin adorned with a once-vibrant blue diamond tattoo. Its hues had faded, a testament to the ravages of the event, and yet, the tattoo appeared to be resurging, the ink gradually reclaiming its territory on his leg.
A plume of smoke danced in the air as he drew from his cigarette, the ember casting an intermittent glow on his face.
Amidst the desolation, his voice cut through the silence, "And can you believe Boss Kitty had the fucking nerve to warn me buying the Diamond Defense? Look who's still standing, bitch."
In this shattered realm, Tauru found a moment of bitter amusement as he snorted with amusement.
As his gaze lingered on the expanse of the road before him, a subtle transformation captured his attention. A silhouette emerged, timid at first, taking shape upon his knee. Gradually, this outline grew, its edges stretching and expanding with each passing second. The once-modest shadow evolved and covered him.
“Funny, I don’t remember an eclipse in the astrology chart today,” Tauru said staring at the shadow.
He looked up into the sky and toward the source. The cigarette fell from his lips.
“The Happy fucking Rabbit,” he said pointing his middle finger in the air. “You gotta be…”
Tauro blinked and found himself sitting on a white leather couch in an otherwise empty white room.
“Shitting me,” he said finishing his sentence.
Perched beside him, Heather's arms were tightly folded, her face a tapestry of suppressed fury.
"Purgatory?" Tauru asked.
His question hung in the air and ended with a response with a subtle nod from Heather. Her gaze remained steadfastly fixed ahead, avoiding any direct eye contact.
“Fuck,” he replied as he sat back and drummed his fingers across the armrest.
***