Showing posts with label ShortStoriesCritique. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ShortStoriesCritique. Show all posts

Saturday, March 5, 2016

My Last Slice of Life ShortStoriesCritique

I sat at the table my mouth a waterfall of saliva as I stared down the meat lovers pizza it was three days old and smelled of refrigerator. It was cold but i didn’t care cold was how I liked it the cheese firm and sauce sweet truly how pizza was meant to be eaten.

My hand shook with anticipation as I reach to grab the pizza by it’s cold hard crust. Feeling my fingers sliding under the slice rubbing up against the smooth under crust I lifted the slice slowly taking care not to drop a single topping.

I opened my mouth slowly moving the tip of the slice into my mouth. My jaws react biting down but before I can the sound of breaking glass coming from the window to my left interrupts me looking to my left I am stunned by what I see. The window to my left was shattered broken glass and pieces of frame lay scattered all across my kitchen floor but standing in the center of it all was a man in a black skin tight latex full body suit.

He stood there for a second staring off at the wall ahead of him. This confused me as I has no idea how he could see as the suit had no eyes. I sat at the table pondering this for a moment but suddenly with a loud rubbery squelch he turned his head towards my direction his eyeless face sending a cold shiver down my spine.

Calming myself down a bit I decide to speak perhaps I could find out what he wanted and get him to leave.

“Umm can I help you si-” I began to speak but I was interrupted by a latex covered right hook to the face sending me flying out of my chair onto the floor. Shackley I rolled over onto my back to see the latex intruder grab my pizza off of the table and silently jump out the same window he came from.

I just laid there silently mourning the loss of my beloved meat lovers until finally I broke out into full blown sobbing then passed out.



Submitted March 06, 2016 at 11:37AM by HereticGoose http://ift.tt/1YhnSMj ShortStoriesCritique

Friday, February 19, 2016

[Sci-Fi] How to Influence Friends and Make People [4264] ShortStoriesCritique

Looking for Feedback - thanks to anyone who takes the time to read!

It would be good to not be alone anymore. Only 11 hours, 42 minutes, 38 seconds. Less than a day. More than a lifetime. With a sigh, James lifted his head from the control panel to stare at the digital display on the screen in front of him. As he watched, red numbers chased each other in their march toward zero. Now 11 hours, 42 minutes, 17 seconds. 16 seconds. 15 seconds.

Taking a momentary break from watching the countdown, he stood, stretched, and paced. Thirty-eight paces from the facility’s cramped control center to the server room. The server room was undamaged, but it was loud, uncomfortable and mostly self-sustaining. Nothing for him there. Thirty-eight paces back to the control center. 11 hours, 39 minutes, 23 seconds. Tom Petty said it best. The waiting was the hardest part.

Restless, James wandered again. Sixty-three paces to cold storage. He stopped in front of the stainless steel door. James avoided the room most of the time, only going in when he needed materials for the printers or for recycling. Sixty-one paces back to the control center. James shook his head. That wasn’t right. Maybe he had miscounted, or taken bigger strides this time. Either way, it didn’t matter. The distance had to be the same. Not much had changed in the facility in a long time now. But there was a chance it would in 11 hours, 35 minutes, and 28 seconds.

Since Schmidt had left him alone, James rarely moved from the control center. The small room wasn’t built for comfort, but he didn’t need comfort. He needed to watch and wait… for at least the next eleven hours. Originally, the facility was home to nearly one hundred workers: scientists, technicians, administrative folks and even a small security team, of which James was a member. During the attacks, a good part of the facility had been destroyed. Luckily, none of the systems providing heat and fresh air were damaged. Just as luckily, the kitchen was still accessible. There was more than a year’s worth of fresh water and food for two hundred people. Alone, as he was now, it would last him several lifetimes, even if he ate like a king.

Other than the control center, kitchen, server room and cold storage, the only other area still available was the sterile white printer room. If the control center was the facility’s brain, the printer room was the heart. Right now, the heart was beating, one of the three organic matrix printers worked furiously at its assigned task. He lowered himself into one of the chairs, the only furniture in the small room, and returned his gaze to the countdown. He had not always been alone like this. He came to the facility in a different lifetime, just weeks before the attacks started, as part of the new security detail. When he arrived, the place was a living thing, full of movement, activity and life. After the attacks ended however, most of the survivors left. They promised to find out what happened and to return with help. No one ever came back. Eventually, everyone left him. Except Schmidt. But now, after everything, even Schmidt was gone and James hadn’t had a good conversation in longer than he could remember.

Alone, he listened to the low baseline syncopation of printer number two. Alone… but not for much longer. For the next 11 hours, 16 minutes and 30 seconds though, the only thing he had to keep him company were memories.


“What do you think really happened?” James asked, easing into a seat across the kitchen table from Schmidt. Like many other things in the facility, the chair had survived the attacks, but it had also seen better days.

Schmidt didn’t answer.

His question was almost a ritual by this time. Every night for months he asked the same question while sitting in this same chair. Schmidt never answered. The first time he brought up the topic, James figured his friend didn’t answer because he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. Most days, Schmidt talked about any topic that came up — sports they used to watch, women they remembered, favorite foods they could no longer get — almost anything. Those talks were one of the reasons he loved having Schmidt around. For much of his life, James could only tolerate other people in small doses, if at all. But Schmidt was different.

Whenever their talks moved from day-to-day concerns to the attacks that had destroyed much of the former United States of America, Schmidt was a locked vault.

“So, what do you think?” James asked again, more to break the silence rather than expecting an actual answer. After a moment, Schmidt put down the well-worn Lewis Carroll book he was reading. He was always reading from one of the few books they’d found in the facility. Eventually, he spoke. “It was probably us or them that did it.”

“What do you mean us? No way we did this to ourselves.”

“You an only child? Any brothers or sisters?”

James was silent. “Yeah,” he finally answered in a strained voice. “I’ve got… I had a brother. Before.”

Schmidt stood and stretched, fingertips brushing the low ceiling as James regained his composure.

“You guys ever fight?”

“Of course,” James said. “What brothers don’t? What’s that got to do with this?”

“Think about it. You can’t play with my stuff. Tell me your brother never took something away just to stop you from having it.”

James shifted in his chair, moving the holster he always wore to a more comfortable position. “That’s different. There’s no way we would have destroyed everything we have just to stop them from taking over.” Schmidt tapped his fingers on the counter. “History is full of examples of captains scuttling their own ship rather than let it get taken,”

As James watched, Schmidt’s original reluctance on the topic fell away and the history professor he always suspected the man of being at some point in his past, came to life.

“The Lexington. The Virginia. Hell, the entire French Fleet at Toulon,” Schmidt talked faster now, caught up in the moment. “It’s really the same thing, on a bigger scale. Or, it could also have been that someone did the math and decided since we were outnumbered roughly three-to-one, we couldn’t beat them in a ground war. Could be whoever was left in charge after DC leveled tried to bomb them out. Save what can be saved and the hell with the rest. Rumor, back when there were still enough people around to have rumors, always said command was hidden somewhere in the Rockies. Maybe they decided to protect their own asses in Colorado, regardless of the cost anywhere else.”

James contemplated this in silence.

“Keep a little faith in humanity, though. At least our side of it.” Schmidt chuckled. “I don’t think that’s what happened. Although I don’t know for sure.”

“Then who attacked?”

“If anyone has that answer, no one told me. My best guess? It was the Chinese. Makes sense. The Koreans don’t have the numbers we heard about from those early reports, and we’ve been in a warm war with those bastards for years. Little skirmishes. Near misses in the South China Sea. Cyber-attacks. You name it.”

James frowned. “But why?”

“Well, I don’t think they wanted to occupy us. We’re just too big and spread out. Would never have worked anyway. I think they wanted to break us. Come in, bury us under sheer numbers and then punch us so hard in the mouth we don’t get back up. That was what they did with the nukes – hitting all of those non-military targets. It’s like the legend of the Romans and Scipio. The Midwest was our Carthage, and a nuke will do a hell of a job salting those fields.

“Now, if you want to go way down the rabbit hole, Alice,” Schmidt said, nodding to the book he had just closed, “what if nearly wiping us out was just a happy side effect? The Chinese have one hell of an overpopulation problem and nothing clears that up like dropping fifty million people or so as cannon fodder. What if knocking us down a peg or three was just icing on the proverbial dumpling?”

“I can’t believe it. I mean, I don’t think that it’s not possible,” James held his hands up as Schmidt tried to speak. “I just can’t understand the reason for an attack like this. The notion of just throwing lives away for no good reason.”

Schmidt grunted something non-committal as he nodded for him to continue.

“I mean, I’ve had training. I’ve been doing the private security gig for most of my life,” James patted the revolver at his hip. “And I’ve killed while doing it. But it’s only ever been if I felt like I had no other option.”

“People do crazy things when they feel like they don’t have a choice.” Schmidt retook his seat. “Or if they feel like they have nothing to lose. Maybe the average Chinese citizen has been told from birth that someday it’s them or us. It’s possible the only thing they can see anymore is kill or be killed.

“Or what if it’s because of what we can do here.” Schmidt gestured to encompass the entire facility. “Maybe we’ve made it so human life doesn’t mean a damn thing anymore.”

Schmidt shrugged. “But to hell with it. We’re alive. Head, heart and soul. We’ve got food, shelter, good company and, most importantly, Noonan’s scotch. Since he didn’t take it with him, I figure it’s ours now. Spoils of war.”

Leaning across the table, he filled James’ glass from the bottle before topping off his own.

“Don’t war spoils have to come from your enemies and not allies who’ve run off?”

“Are you actually going to argue with me about this? If you do, post-apocalyptic law says I get to drink your share of the loot.”

James laughed and raised his glass in mock salute to his closest friend in the world. “I couldn’t imagine riding out the end of the world without someone like you. You’re one in a million.”

That was one of the last real conversations he had with anyone besides himself.


Holding back a yawn, he looked back to the countdown display. 9 hours, 48 minutes, 13 seconds. The screen to the right of the countdown, the System monitor, still displayed greens for the current job; Lewis, Frank Edward, Accountant, Seattle Washington, M, 34. Everything looked to be going to plan, though he was no expert. Schmidt had been, and once explained how the System worked.

“So, what does this stuff all do specifically?” James asked one day as they sat in the control center. “The hows and whys of what’s going on down here wasn’t exactly covered in the security orientation module.”

“You ever get an MRI?”

“No, never had the need. Why?”

“Well,” Schmidt said, “I’d say ten or twelve years back, the government got into the medical device equipment industry. Remember those new and improved fancy open-air MRI machines that were developed? Supposed to help with claustrophobic patients, but scan just as good as the old tube ones?”

James nodded.

“Believe it or not, the NSA created those with our funding. They did fine scans, but the breakthrough wasn’t the open design or the better resolution. It was what else it could scan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when the photograph was invented? All those cultures didn’t want their picture taken… thought it would steal their soul.”

“That was all urban legend. No one ever thought that.”

“Might be. But if anyone did, they were sure right. These new machines may as well have stolen souls. They took pictures all right. In super high definition. Detailed snapshot of your brain, brainwaves, how you were wired up, you name it.”

“Sounds a bit like science fiction when you put it that way.” James scoffed.

“More like science reality. I mean, we’ve had organic 3-D printing for years. These days -- well those days -- not anymore with everything that’s happened. Those days, everyone’s DNA was on file somewhere. From there, it’s only a few steps away from being able to print replacement bodies. For all intents and purposes, with the new scanning, you have consciousness stored on your hard drive. It was only a matter of time until someone figured out a way to stuff one onto the other. The amazing thing, to be honest, is that no one figured it out sooner.

“This here,” Schmidt continued, pointing at the monitor on the control panel, “is what makes the magic happen. Everyone they ever scanned, from A to Z. Well A to Y in reality. Abrams, Kyle Anthony from Orlando, Florida to Yates, Melissa Jane from middle-of-nowhere, Iowa. Full brain pattern just waiting for a body.”

“How many people are in there?”

Schmidt tapped the screen several times. “Almost six hundred,”

James let out a low whistle.

“You can say that again,”

“So how does it work?”

“Well, I’m not the expert that others were by any means. Simple answer, is select your file and tap Print.” Schmidt pointed to a button on the screen. “In around thirty-six hours, out pops Anthony Abrams.”

“There’s more to it than that I’m sure,” James said dryly.

“Yeah. The first few hours, the System is getting everything ready. After that, the printers do their thing.” Schmidt nodded in the general direction of the print room. “That takes you to about the thirty-hour mark. After that, our friend Anthony’s cognitive information here gets sent to his new body. Once that’s done, if everything worked the way the experts said it should, Mr. Anthony Abrams wakes up, confused as hell. The last thing he remembers is lying down in a medical imaging clinic near Orlando, hoping they can figure out what’s wrong with his right knee.”

“What if things don’t work out that way?”

“Well, it all depends on where the problem is. Anything brain related, you can handle right from here.” Schmidt again nodded to the monitor. “There’s a button right on the main screen for just about anything. Print. Abort. Retry. If something goes really sideways, you can just delete the whole record.” Schmidt tapped a red button on the screen with his knuckle. “But once it’s gone, it’s gone and I doubt we’ll be getting anyone else on one of our special MRI tables anytime soon.”

“What if it’s a body-related problem?” James turned his head towards the printers.

“Well for those… it’s not very pretty.” Schmidt chuckled. “I hope you’re handy with a mop.”


The warning bell snapped James back from the haze of memory. Rubbing his eyes, he gazed at the display. 6 hours, 22 minutes, 17 seconds. To the right of the countdown, the green symbol representing printer two had turned a bright red. The printer was out of organic material. He’d need to add more.

He stood, punched the button to mute the warning and walked the sixty-three steps to cold storage. Out of habit, he checked his holstered revolver. Once satisfied it was in place, he pulled open the door and was hit by a blast of cold air. From the outside, cold storage look little different from the walk-in refrigerator found in just about any restaurant anywhere in the world. On the inside, any resemblance to a restaurant cooler stopped. Half of the room was dedicated to a machine Schmidt had jokingly dubbed, ‘the Mulcher’. Organic material — food scraps, plants from outside, really anything carbon-based — went into the Mulcher.

Out of the Mulcher came small, dense cubes of sterilized organic matter. Filament for the printers. Right now, there were only three vacuum-sealed cubes left on the shelf. He would need to do something about that soon, if he wanted to keep the printers running. He picked up a cube, surprised as always that they were so much heavier than they looked, and headed off to reload printer two.

Eighty-three paces from cold storage to the print room. From the outside, the printers weren’t much to look at; just ten-foot tall, non-descript, black rectangles. The interesting stuff all happened inside the box. He walked to the side of number two, knelt and hit the release, and a small drawer opened. Hefting the filament cube, he broke the seal and was rewarded with the smell of rotting leaves for his effort. Trying not to gag, he finished unwrapping the cube, dropped it in the printer and shut the drawer. With the printer reloaded, he took the thirty-two paces back to the control center to restart the print cycle and wait.

An eternity passed while he stared at the countdown, now at 3 hours, 48 minutes, 38 seconds. 37 seconds. 36 seconds. Right on schedule, printer number two stopped. By this time, the blank body within its depths would look like “Lewis, Frank Edward”. It still wouldn’t be Frank for almost four more hours.

The lights dimmed a moment. After this long, James hardly noticed; the power draw just meant encoding was starting. The blank body in printer two would wake up soon, full of thoughts and memories. Excited at the prospect of not being alone anymore, he recalled his last conversation with Schmidt.


“Do you believe we have a soul?” Schmidt asked in a low voice from where he lay, on a cot in the kitchen. James had found him earlier that morning, unconscious on the floor of the control room. At first, he assumed his friend had just enjoyed too much scotch the night before. It wouldn’t have been the first time. When Schmidt could barely stand on his own, it became clear that whatever was wrong with him was more than just a hangover.

James was at a loss. The facility lacked even a rudimentary medical station and even if it hadn’t, the only person with medical experience had died during the attacks. With a lack of better options, he brought Schmidt to the kitchen where it was warm and well lit, and tried to make his friend comfortable.

“Do you believe we have a soul?” Schmidt asked again.

“I don’t know. I didn’t grow up religious, so I never spent much time on the subject.” James said as he brought Schmidt a glass of water.

“I did,” Schmidt said with a nod of thanks as he propped himself up on the cot and took a small sip. “Grew up Catholic, and I’ve given it a lot of thought, especially of late. I mean, think about it. This place only ever had one purpose. To make people. Sure… we’ve been able to make parts of people for years. Print an arm, a liver, an ear. That’s fine. An arm is an arm. But whole people?”

“What’s wrong with it?” James sat on the side of the cot next to Schmidt. “If someone loses a finger, we can grow a new one. What’s the difference in growing the whole body of say, a father of three who gets hit by a drunk driver?”

“I guess it’s replacing parts versus replacing the whole. Are there certain things that can’t or shouldn’t be replaced? The System here can add experience and memories to an empty shell, sure. But what about their soul? How could we even reclaim something like that if it’s gone? And for that matter, some of these people may still be alive out there.” Schmidt motioned his arm toward the ceiling. “We just don’t know. If they are, how can anything made here have a soul that’s being used somewhere else?”

“So you don’t think they’re alive?”

“I’m asking you.”

“They walk and talk right? They understand right from wrong as much as any other person does. Brain activity. Check. Pulse. Check. That has to mean they’re alive, doesn’t it?”

“A good enough piece of software can pass the Turing Test, sure; but does that mean it’s alive? As a scientist I agree with you; all basic criteria met. But the good Catholic in me? I don’t know. I just don’t know. Walt Whitman wrote, ‘Whatever satisfies the soul is truth,’ but what if there’s no soul to satisfy? Can a man without a soul ever comprehend truth? Love? Can he truly be alive? Or are they some gray area in between? I don’t know,” Schmidt repeated, “and that scares me.”

“If they’re not alive, why bother with all of this?”

“For some people, it might not matter at all. For them, the illusion of life becomes reality. For others, maybe whatever holds off death just a little while longer is worth the price. Or perhaps it’s just an insurance policy to make sure the human race keeps going.”

“I don’t think I...” James began, but Schmidt interrupted.

“Don’t say anything. Not now. I doubt if I’ll be here much longer and you’ll need to think long and hard about what you need to do once I’m gone.”

“Quit talking like that,” James placed a hand on Schmidt’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine.”

“No. No, I won’t.” Schmidt rolled over on the cot, turning his back to James.

True to his word, Schmidt died the next day. Staring at his friend’s body, through a veil of unbidden tears, James sat motionless considering their final talk for a long time.

After what may have been an eternity, James stood and headed to the control center, counting his steps as he went. Fifty-four paces. Once there, he sat in Schmidt’s old chair and stared at the monitor until his eyes hurt, his head full of thoughts of the war outside, Schmidt, the damnable System, and the soul. In the end, it all came back to one simple thing. Did he want to be alone?

Before everything had happened, before Schmidt, the answer to that question would have been easy. But some doors, once opened, are not easily closed. Finally, he decided what he needed to do.

James tapped the first name on the list. ‘Abrams, Kyle Anthony, Veterinarian, Orlando Florida, M, 42’. Would Kyle Anthony be alive? Would he have a soul? Could he replace Schmidt? There was only one way to find out. He hit Print on the screen and settled back to watch the countdown.


A beep from the control console brought James back to the present. It was almost time. One minute, thirty seconds. He should be there for the awakening. He stood, stretched and began the short walk to the printer room, counting down in his head as he went. Fifty-two seconds. Fifty-one seconds. Fifty seconds. He arrived just as the front of the printer slid open. Inside stood Mr. Lewis, naked as the day of his birth, which depending on how you looked at it, was today.

James took a deep breath, checked the revolver on his hip out of habit and pressed his thumb to the lock of the printer room.

“Frank Edward Lewis?” James said as he entered the room.

The man, an empty vessel no longer, stepped forward, out of the printer. “What? Where am I?”

“You’re Frank Lewis, accountant from Seattle Washington, right?”

“What…?”

“You are Frank Lewis, right?” James repeated.

“Y-y-es.” “Want to chat? I haven’t had a good conversation in ages.”

“What? Who are you? Where am I?” Frank said, voice rising in the early stages of hysteria.

“I’m James. You need to calm down and talk to me.” James took a step forward.

“Don’t come any closer! Calm down? What did you do to me? Why can’t I —”

“Jesus,” James said in exhausted tone. “Schmidt would have never blathered like this. He would have taken all this in stride.”

“What are you talking about?” Frank screamed.

“I’ve got bad news, Frank. This isn’t going to work out.” James interrupted before Mr. Lewis could continue. Over time, he’d gotten very proficient at this part. “You seem like a nice enough guy, a little high strung possibly, but you’re not what I’m looking for. You’re definitely no Schmidt.”

With a practiced motion, James drew his revolver and fired twice. Frank Edward Lewis from Seattle, Washington, slumped to the ground, little more than a blank body again. Sighing, James returned to the control center, leaving Mr. Lewis where he fell. There would be time to take the body to cold storage later for mulching.

Lewis, Frank Edward, Accountant, Seattle Washington, M, 34 still displayed on the screen.

“Frank, I hardly knew you.” James tapped Delete on the monitor. The next record moved to the top of the list. Logan, Mary Elizabeth. Entertainment Lawyer. Los Angeles California. F. 52.

“Lawyer… next!” James tapped Delete again.

Martinson, Ryan Joseph. History Professor. Ann Arbor Michigan. M. 58 moved to the top of the list.

“History, huh? That sounds promising. Schmidt always did like to talk history,” James said to the screen as he pressed Print.

The digital display above his head jumped to life, the red numbers chasing each other once again. He watched them count down. 33 hours. 0 minutes. 0 seconds. 32 hours. 59 minutes. 59 seconds... 58 seconds... He was alone. But not for long. In 32 hours, 59 minutes, 51 seconds he’d find out if Ryan Martinson from Ann Arbor was a more like Schmidt. James hoped the man was with all of his heart… but if not, he could always try again. 32 hours. 59 minutes. 42 seconds... 41 seconds... 40 seconds...



Submitted February 20, 2016 at 03:02AM by austenwithane http://ift.tt/21eDXEn ShortStoriesCritique

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Adam and Eva ShortStoriesCritique

It is close to 1:00 in the morning it is raining. There is a woman standing over a grave in a small town in the middle of the southern state. She is wearing a black trench coat and a matching fedora. She is holding one red rose and crying, but her tears are hidden by the rain.

Judith Heber is a former member of Caracal Battalion, where she commanded a sniper platoon. She is an expert rifle marksman herself. Being a high-ranking middle-aged single Jewish female in the services is usual for the Israeli army. She was recruited into Shin Bet and joined the Yamas. Shin Bet is Israel’s internal security service. The Yamas are the elite counterterrorism unit that runs special operations and undercover operations. Her colleagues know her as the Ice Woman.

Judith is in her office in Jerusalem. There is a file on her desk about an American named Jason Pain. He is a part of an exchange program between the America’s Department of Homeland Security and Israel’s Shin Bet. She reads that Jason graduated from the United States Military Academy at the top of his class. He also finished at the top of his classes at the Army Airborne School, Army Intelligence Center of Excellence, and Special Forces Qualification Course. He finished his career in the Joint Special Operations Command. After his contract was up after 20 years, he joined the Department of Homeland Security based in Washington D. C. He is a member of their special operations unit.

Judith is assigned to meet Jason at Ben Gurion Airport. He is arriving at 12:25 pm on an El Al from New York. Judith looks at her watch; it is time to leave. She heads to the airport in an armored Mercedes G65 AMG.

As she is driving to the airport, she is trying to figure out. ‘Why am I assigned to babysit the American? Nevertheless, an order is an order.’

Judith arrives at the airport, and inside, she flashes her badge and identification card to bypass security. She is standing at the gate. Jason Pain enters into view. She knows it is him because of the ID photo in the file.

Jason is dressed in a black suit with a black belt. His shirt is red with a black tie. He has his carry on and briefcase with him.

Judith asks, “Jason Pain?”

He says, “Yes, Ma'am.”

She puts out her hand, "Judith Heber of Shin Bet. Will you come with me?”

They shake hands briefly.

Judith asks, "Is that all of your baggage?"

“Yes, Ma'am.”

They walk quickly toward the doors. She flashes her badge and identification card again as they leave the airport.

They get into her SUV. He puts his carry on and briefcase in the back seat. On his seat, there is a brown clasp envelope with his name on it. Jason opens the envelope and inside is his ID card, and other paperwork that he will need in Israel, and a key. They chitchat about his flight.

When they arrive at Shin Bet headquarters, Judith signs him in at the entrance and takes Jason straight to the Director. Her boss welcomes Jason and tells him that Judith Heber is his liaison officer. Jason needs to listen carefully and follow her orders.

Jason says, “Yes, Sir.”

They say goodbye leave for her division, the Yamas office. She introduces Jason to her staff. She explains they are highly trained agents with different backgrounds, but are all skilled snipers and firearms experts with time in the military.

After the formalities, Judith and Jason enter her office. Judith has a table with a chair for Jason to use as a desk in the far corner. She tells him that the table and chair are for him to use. On the table are the standard pen, sticky notes, a laptop, and other items.

She looks at his reaction to his table and thinks, 'Since I am going to babysit you, I will keep you in my sight.'

After Jason, heard that the table is to be his desk, he put his briefcase on it. He opens it. It has some files and other things. He reaches into his briefcase and puts out an electronic Bible. The paint on the side of the tablet computer has been worn from daily use and a plaque that says, “God is my protector.”

Judith raises her eyebrows and thinks, 'This is odd, a man with his background, a religious man.'

Jason sits down at the table, puts his jacket around the chair, and gets to work. He is in Shin Bet as a liaison officer and he makes contract with his office to say He arrived and is ready to start work.

After a half an hour or so, Judith says, “Why don't we go down to the range and see how good of a shot you are?”

Jason says, “Why not, Ma'am.”

"Follow me."

They walk to the range in the basement of their building. Judith waves to the Range Master on the camera. He opens the door for her to enter the cage. The weapons that are not being used as side arms are kept in a locked cabinet.

Judith comes often to this area for one reason or another. She tells the Range Master that Jason is from America and is there on an exchange program. They need to sign out a weapon to him.

The Range Master says, “Yes, Ma'am.

Looking at the selection of guns in the weapon’s safe. She sees a Glock-19 pistol. She picks it up, checks its balance lays it on the counter. She tells the Range Master to write down the pistol's serial number and that Jason needs to sign for it.

Both men say, “Yes, Ma'am.”

After a few minutes of paperwork, Jason is handed the pistol, a magazine, a box of ammo, a holster, and safety glasses. He follows Judith into the firing range. With her blazer off, she is already on the firing line with her primary and secondary pistols out of her body holsters on the table. She has a Glock-19 and Glock-26 as a secondary weapon.

Jason puts everything down on his table in his lane and starts to put the ammo in the magazine.

Judith hands him the protector earmuffs lying on the table. "Ware these."

As she is saying that, she pins up her target on the loop and sends it down the range. By the time, the target is down range Jason has the magazine loaded and on the table. He has his earmuffs on.

She reaches for his gun, pulls the safety off, and spends her magazine in record time.

She puts the safely on and lays the pistol on the table.

Judith brings the target up range. Taking off her earmuffs, she is jumping for joy inside, but she does not want to show it. She sees that she has a nice grouping on the target.

Jason sees the grouping and says, “Great job, Ma'am.”

Judith says, “It is your turn.”

Therefore, he sends his target down range. They both put their ear protection back on. When the target is in place Jason puts the magazine in the pistol, pulls the safety off. His magazine is spent down range in no time. He puts the safely on and puts the pistol on the table. They pull down their earmuffs. Jason brings the target up range.

Judith could see that Jason's grouping is much better than hers is. She is pissed inside.

Jason says, “It is just luck, Ma'am.”

This ticked her off even more because Jason would not admit that he had better skills.

She is about to scolded him but hears a knock on the range door.

One of her agents says, “You need to see this.”

He gave her a paper about a former agent of the Islamic Republic of Iran's Ministry of Intelligence. The man is in the town of Rafah in the Gaza Strip.

She says, “Thank you, I am heading back to the office."

She re-holsters her pistols, and leaves the range for her office.

Jason quickly puts his pistol in the holster and puts it in his pocket. He also puts the rest of his ammo in his other pocket before she is too far down the hall.

As the three of them leave the stairway elevator and enter her division, Judith orders the agent to follow the Islamist and to see what he is up too. She also says that she wants to be briefed on anything unusual.

The agent says, “Yes, Ma'am," and leaves.

When Judith and Jason get back to her office, Jason unloads his pockets on the table and opens his Bible.

Judith sits down at her desk and types the Iranian name in the database on her computer. The info comes up quickly. His name is Haman Bakeri. Her interest is in what happened after his work in Iran's Intelligence Service. It is rumored that he left because he thought the Ministrywas not doing enough to unite Islam to fight against the Infidels. He is known to be a hard-liner.

As Judith is reading the information about Bakeri, Jason is reloading the pistol magazine and looking at the Bible. After the magazine is full, he puts the magazine in the pistol and makes sure the safety is on. He puts the pistol in the holster and lays it on the table. He puts the extra ammo in the box and leaves it beside the pistol.

A minute or two later Judith gets up from her desk and walks over to Jason's table. As his laptop is booting up, she looks over and sees that the Bible is open. An electronic arrow flag self-stick note is pointing to the enlarged verse of Joshua 1:9, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

By this time, the laptop has boot up. Judith lays down a pen and sticky note and moves away from the Bible. She flips Jason's computer around to type and logs into the database. Typing Bakeri into the search engine, the file pops open.

On the sticky note, she writes down Jason's log in user name and password and sticks it on the frame of the laptop.

She walks over to her desk and says, to Jason as she is sitting down. “The log in information that you need is on the sticky note. Look over the information that is on the screen. We need to figure out what he is doing in town.”

Jason looks over the information as Judith went back to her paperwork.

After 30 minutes or so, Jason says, “Ma'am, Where is the latrine?” He is tapping his holster on the table.

Judith understood that Jason wanted to put on the holster. She could not understand why he did not just take his belt off in the office, but she figured, 'He is just a shy guy I guess.'

She tells him down the hall to the left.

Before Jason leaves the office, Judith says, “When you are done, see if anyone out there needs any help.”

Jason says, “Yes, Ma'am.”

After Jason adjusts his under-arm holster and gun, he went to see what he could do for Judith’s staff. They gave him a computer and search parameters. One of the agents gives him his computer and stands over him directing him on how to use the network.

Judith is working diligently at her desk and has forgotten about Jason. After sometime, she gets a call on her cell phone.

“Hello, this is Judith,” she answered quickly without thinking.

“This is your mother, just in case you don't know.”

Judith says, “I know it is you, mom.”

Her mother says, “Why do you not call us? Are you ashamed of us?”

Judith says, “I am not ashamed or anything like that. I am just very busy at work.”

Her mother says, “Sure that is it. Anyway, your Father and I are in Jerusalem. We want you to come to dinner with us?”

Judith says, “I cannot tonight, Mom.”

Her mother shot back, “You are ashamed of us!”

Judith says, “I am not ashamed. I have a lot going on at work. I have an America agent here. He is a part of an exchange program. This is his first night in Israel. I have not even taken him to where he is staying yet. I cannot bring him along.”

Her mother says, “Is he single?”

She says, “Yes.”

Her mother says, “Bring him along. We can show him a good time.”

After a few more minutes of guilt from her mother, Judith says, “Yes, I will come and bring him.”

Her mother tells her where they are to dine.

Judith says, “See you in a few.”

Judith gets up from her desk walks over to the door and opens it.

In a loud voice, she says, “Mr. Jason Pain report to my office ASAP!”

Jason looks up from the screen startled and says, “Yes, Ma'am.”

He gives his seat back to the agent and walks in her office. Judith is putting things away and turns off the computers. She tells Jason to get his things because they are leaving for the day.

“Yes, Ma'am.”

Jason gets his coat, briefcase, and bag. He follows Judith out of the office. She showed him how to sign out at the main entrance.

When they get to the SUV, Jason puts his briefcase and bag in the backseat again. She starts the car and heads out.

Just seconds after leaving the Shin Bet headquarters she says, “Oh, by the way, we are meeting my parents for dinner tonight. Sorry, I hope you do not mind.”

Jason says, “That is fine, Madam.”

Judith turns on the radio.

Not too long after that, they arrive at the restaurant. She finds a parking spot. As they were getting out, she warns him about her parents.

She tells him, “My Mother is like a highly trained interrogator. So be careful.”

Jason just laughs.

When they enter the restaurant, she asks the Maître d' for the Heber table.

The Maître d' says, “Follow me.”

When they get to the table, Judith says, “Hello, Mom and Dad.”

Her mother and father get up happily. They all hug and kiss.

Judith says, “This is Mr. Jason Pain. He is from America and is here on an exchange program. Jason, this is my father Karl Heber and my mother Natasha Heber.”

Jason says, “Please to meet you.” He shakes hands with Karl and kisses Natasha hand.

As Natasha sat down, Karl pushes her seat behind her. Jason does the same thing for Judith. Natasha likes that and Judith does not.

After ordering the drinks and the meals, they chitchat. Judith catches up on what her parents have been doing.

Natasha says, “We hear from Judith that you are single?”

Jason says, “Yes, Ma’am. I am single.”

Natasha says, “Why?”

Judith almost split out the water she is drinking and wished she could down a glass of wine, but because she is always on duty 24/7, she would not drink any alcohol.

Judith exclaimed, “Mother!” as her face turned red.

Jason says without thinking, “The reason I am single is because I never found my Eva.”

Natasha says, “Judith is single.”

Judith is about to hide under the table, but she quickly changed the subject.

In no time, the meal had arrived. After the food is put on the table, Jason bows his head and says a quick prayer to bless the food and to say thank you in silence.

The Heber family had not seen this in a while.

After a few minutes, Natasha asks, “Jason, are you a religious man?”

Jason says, “Yes, Ma'am. I am a Christian. I hope that does not make anyone uncomfortable or anything.”

Everyone says, “No.”

Her father says, “Jason, I can tell you are a military man, a warrior so is it not odd that you are also a religious man?”

Judith is thinking the same thing, but did not want to ask.

Jason respond, “Yes, Sir. I am a military man. I have served in the US Special Forces for most of my career in the military. No, Sir to me it is not odd for a warrior to be religious. Look at the history of this country many men and women in the ancient days of this country were religious."

Karl says, “I did not think of that. Thank you. I hope you are not uncomfortable or anything.”

Jason says, “No, Sir.”

They all talked about one thing or another and had a great meal and a great time.

When the check came for the dinner, Jason and Karl fight for a few minutes. Jason is able to win and pay for the dinner.

They all leave and say their good-byes.

Judith has a private word with her mother about something.

Judith and Jason get into the SUV. They head to where Jason is going to live and where Judith lives.

She says, “You did not have to pay for dinner but thank you again.”

Jason says, “You are welcome. I wanted to pay. I had a great time. I like your parents. They are nice.” he says, “I do have one question?”

She says, “Shoot.”

He says, “Why are you called the Ice Woman? The woman I saw tonight is a not an Ice Woman.”

Judith says, “You heard about that.”

Jason says, “Yes.”

Judith says, “I got that name when I was in the military. It does not matter what happen I never show any emotions.” Judith says, “What is your nickname in the military?”

Jason says, “Templar.”

Judith says, “Oh, I see the warrior monk.”

Jason says, “Yes.”

A few minutes after that, they arrive at her apartment complex.

Judith says, “Here we are”.

They get out of the SUV. Jason gets out his stuff. Judith goes around to the trunk of the car, where she gets out her gun case.

Judith says, “I also live here. We could not find any other place. Lucky, there is an extra fully furnish apartment, just a door down for me. Do you still have your key?”

Jason says, “Yes.” He asks, “Could I give you a hand?”

She shakes her head no and says, “It is just my M4 carbine, but thank you.”

Jason gets the door for her as they enter the apartment complex. They head up to their floor on the elevator. Judith takes Jason to his door. He gets his key out of his pocket. He has kept the key in his pocket since he first opened the envelope. He unlocks the door, opens it, and turns on the light. Judith follows him in.

Jason puts down his stuff in the living room. Judith shows him around the apartment.

After the tour, Judith says, “I will come and pick you up for work at six thirty.”

Jason says, “OK.” He says, “May I see you to your door?”

Judith says, “OK, if you want to?”

They walk down to her door.

Judith says, “Goodnight. I will see you in the morning.”

Jason says, “Goodnight and see you.”

He walks back to his apartment and enters.

In her apartment Judith puts down the M4 container, unlocks, and opens the case. After she checks the M4 to make sure everything is OK, Judith puts it back in the case and places it near the door. She does her nighttime routine and goes to bed.

She is lying in bed thinking about what her mother tells her after dinner. ‘Jason is the right man for you.’ Judith thinks her mom is wrong and turns over and goes to sleep.

After Jason enters his apartment, he lays out his bag on the bed and unpacks. After putting his personal items in the bureau, he does his bedtime routine.

Before he lies down on the bed he gets on his knees and prays, "Thanks God for everything, let me repent of my sins. Also, thank you God for letting me be in Israel and having dinner with the Hebers and thanks for Judith. Let me humbly ask for another day so that I can become a better Christian than I am today."

After praying, he gets off his knees, gets into bed, and falls sleep quickly.

At 5:00 AM on the dot, both Judith and Jason’s internal clocks go off. They both get up and do their morning routine.

Jason gets back on his knees, “Thanks God for another day and please God protect Judith and my teammates today. “

He continues to get dressed for work.

Judith gets dressed and remembers that Jason has no food in the apartment. She goes down the hall to his apartment and knocks on the door.

Jason answers the door and says, “Good morning, Judith.”

She says, “Good morning and would you like to come over for some breakfast?”

Jason says, “Yes and thank you.”

She says, “The door will be unlocked.”

She heads back up the steps and enters her apartment.

Jason gets everything he needs, locks up and heads to her apartment.

When he gets to the door, knocks, and opens it, Judith is at the table where she is eating. It is bagels and lox.

She tells him to get some or look in the refrigerator. He sits down gives thanks to God for breakfast and eats the bagels and lox. The TV is on with the news. At 6:15 AM, they leave for headquarters. As they were get into the SUV, Judith puts the M4 carbine case back in the trunk.

When they get to their office, Jason sits down and opens his Bible to read.

Judith logs into her computer, checks her messages, and makes out a list.

After Jason finishes reading from the Bible, he logs in and waits for orders.

Judith gets up and heads for Jason's table.

When she gets to the table, she says, “You have been trained in intelligence work, right?”

Jason says, “Yes, Ma'am.”

Judith says, “Here is a list of names on this flash drive and all our info. Look them over and see if your American database can detect anything we missed?”

She puts the flash drive and printed list of names on the desk and walks back to her desk.

Jason says, “Yes, Ma'am.”

They both go to work and forget about anything but their task at hand.

Right before lunchtime, Judith gets a phone call from her boss and is ordered to report to his office.

When she enters his office, her boss tells her, according to the intelligence report that a wanted member of the Palestine Liberation Organization is going to be at a warehouse in the West Bank. He is authorizing her to arrest the terrorist. The report says that he will be there around 2:00 PM and she needs to get a move on to get there before the suspect.

Judith quickly briefs him about Haman Bakeri, “I got a report this morning, that he has a meeting this afternoon about 3:00 PM. The agents are still following him.”

Her boss says, “Good job, and keep me informed.”

She says, “Yes, sir.”

She hurriedly leaves and goes to her team officers to quickly brief them. They get their gear and head to the underground parking lot to load up the vans and cars.

She taps on the glass of her door and waves to Jason.

He gets up, opens the door, and asks, “What is up?”

She tells him that they have an operation and to head for her SUV.

He gets his coat and runs for the car. He is only one-step behind her. They get into her car and head for the scene.

Her special operations team has loaded up and their vans and cars follow her to the scene. They pull up at an area near the warehouse, but not to close and out of sight. When everyone is at the scene, Judith and Jason get out of the car. As she is briefing the team, they pull up, synchronize their maps up on their smart phones, and find a spot to deploy and meet up. They test their advanced walkie-talkies.

She goes to her SUV trunk, gets her M4 carbine, and puts on the sling around her shoulder.

Judith gives orders. The sniper teams gets in position and everyone else goes to support positions.

Jason is impressed. He has not seen anything like this, since his days in Delta.

Judith orders Jason to stay with her. He is there as an observer.

Jason says, “Yes, Ma'am.” He is disappointed because he will not be in the action, but understands. He also gives a quick silent pray for the team.

One of the sniper teams members reports seeing the target and it is confirmed, the assault team would enter the area, storm the warehouse, arrest the target and anyone else that is there, and collect any intelligence. Judith and Jason will follow in the assault team to help clean up. The snipers teams would cover. The main objective is to get in and out before anyone could know what happened.

As the intelligence report from the men stationed a mile away says, the target arrived is arriving on time. The operation is going off like clockwork.

Judith calls her boss. “I know you were listening to the action but to confirm: No one was killed; three other members of the PLO were arrested and no shots were fired.”

“Great job Judith, keep in touch,” he says.

Judith is proud of her team. After the operation, she puts her M4 carbine back in her trunk.

Judith and Jason stop by a fast food restaurant and pick up enough food for everyone. As they were about to carry out the food, she gets a call on her cell phone. It is one of her agents.

He says, "The report has come in and Haman Bakeri has a meeting with a smuggler.”

She says, “Thank you” and hangs up.

Judith calls her boss and briefs him.

He tells her, “If the agents could grab the smuggler without a scene, and without Bakeri knowing do it.”

She says, “OK.” and hangs up.

She calls her lead agent at the office and tells him what the boss says.

The agent says, “It will be done.”

“So the operation is a go,” she confirms.

Judith picks up the rest of the food that Jason left on the table and follows him to her car.

When they were in her car, Jason says, “What is up?”

Driving back to the office, she tells him the latest developments, “Hopeful by tonight the smuggler, will say what job he has done for Haman.”

They enter the headquarters and pass out the food. They take their food back to the office.

Jason sits down with his food at the table and prays over his meal to give thanks.

They go back to work on their computers for the next few hours.

Judith gets a phone call that they have bought in the smuggler.

It is around dinnertime, Judith says, “It is time to leave for today.”

They log out and leave the building.

When they get to her SUV, Jason says, “Can we drop by the grocery store before or after dinner tonight? So I can pick up some things.”

Judith says, “Sure, after dinner. I need to get something myself.” She also says, “I want to show you around Jerusalem. So you can learn where everything is.”

Jason says, “Great.”

She drove them around for an hour. She found a nice place for them to eat. It is a small little family owned restaurant. It is a place that a person would take someone on a date.

At dinner, she gets a call.

An agent says, “The smuggler smuggled in a man named “Vlad the Terrible". We are trying to find out, who he is.”

She says, “Thanks, I need the name on my desk in the morning.”

She hung up and tells Jason about the phone call.

Jason tells her, “For some reason I have heard the name before.”

“Oh, I will know in the morning who he is.”

When the meals arrive, Jason prays over his meal and gives thanks. They talk about the activities and accomplishments of the day.

When they leave Jason once again pays for the meal. Judith puts up more of a fight than her dad but Jason still wins.

After the meal, they go to the grocery store.

As they were checking out, the cashier says, “You guys look like a great couple, when are you getting married?”

Judith does not know what to says, but Jason says, “We are just friends nothing else.”

The cashier says, “To bad.”

They pay for their groceries and load them in the SUV.

On the way back to the apartment complex, they chitchat about what the cashier said, and why would she think that? They also talk about life in Jerusalem.

All the time, in the back of Jason’s mind, he is trying to figure out, ‘Why do I know the name Vlad the Terrible?”

When they get to the apartment complex, Jason gets all the bags from the grocery store. Judith gets her M4 carbine bag. They go to her apartment. When they get inside Jason separated the groceries. Judith puts the M4 carbine on her love seat because she is going to clean it.

After a few minutes, Jason says, “Goodnight and I had a great time.”

Judith says, “Goodnight and I also had a great time.”

Jason gets his grocery bags and leaves the apartment. He goes down the hall, unlocks, and enters his apartment.

After Jason leaves, Judith turns on the TV. To the noise of the news network, she cleans her M4 carbine. Satisfied that it is clean, she puts it back together and puts the case by the door. She turns off the TV and gets in bed. During her bedtime routine, she always puts her pistols on the bedside table. Lying on the bed, she is thinking about what her mother said and what the cashier said. It is odd, but she needs more time to think before doing anything. She goes to sleep.

After Jason enters his apartment, he puts up his groceries and watches a little TV. After that and his bedtime routine, he gets down on his knees “Thanks God for everything. Please God grant me another day for you to make me a better Christian. Let me know if Judith is my Eva.’

He gets up and just lies there on the bed thinking about the name “Vlad the Terrible.” Around three in the morning, it hits him who he is. He jumps up just wearing pajama pants, leaves the apartment, but makes sure his door is unlocked and runs down to Judith’s door and knocks.

Judith is sound asleep when she hears the knocks. Sleepily she is trying to figure out what is going on. She grabs her Glock-19 off the bedside table. She goes to the door quietly and looks out the peephole.

Jason says, “It is me, Jason Pain, open the door.”

She unlocks and opens the door. She is wearing nothing but a black lace and satin camisole set.

Judith sees that Jason is only wearing pajama pants.

She is thinking, ‘Does the Templar, hope he is going to break one of his vows with me?’

Jason says, “I figured out who Vlad the Terrible is.”

Judith thinks, ‘Nope, Templar is one of a kind.”

Jason enters the apartment and closes the door.

Judith says, “Who is he?”

Jason says, “His name is Vladimir Zukovsky. I heard about him when I was in Special Forces. He is a former member of Spetsnaz Alpha. The theory about why he left is that Vlad thinks Russia is too soft so he became a mercenary. Nevertheless, he is a true mercenary. He does not care whom he works for or what the job is, as long as they pay his fee.”

Jason asks, “Could you log onto the database with your home computer?”

Judith says, “Yes.”

She walks over to the computer to boot it up and logs on to the database.

She says, “What is his name?”

Jason says, “Vladimir Zukovsky.”

She types the name into the search engine. His name came up and Jason is right. Long lists of atrocities are linked to him but the authorities had never had any hard proof for convictions.

Jason says, “Is there a picture of him?”

Judith says, “Yes.”

“If I can make a suggestion, Ma'am?”

She says in a sharp tone, “You are here in my apartment. We are both barely dressed. It is three in the morning. So drop the military etiquette. What is your suggestion?”

Jason says, “My suggestion is that you print his photo, some other photos of different people. Take the photos to the smuggler in custody and see if he points him out?”

Judith says, “OK, I will do it first thing in the morning. Now can I get back to sleep?”

Jason says, “Yes.”

She walks him to the door.

Jason is still half-asleep and excited. Impulsively he grabs Judith and kisses her on the lips with lustful passion.

Judith being even more asleep when Jason entered the apartment is now fully awake. She returned the kiss with more passion and lust.

After what seems to be a lifetime in a few minutes, Jason let her go, turns away, says, “Goodnight” and goes back to his apartment. He fell into bed and is immediately asleep.

Judith closes and locks the door behind Jason. Her mind is racing now. She went over to the couch and felt on it. She is trying to understand the kiss. After some time, she turned on the TV trying to turn off her mind. After a few minutes, she felt asleep on the couch.

At five o’clock on the dot, Jason wakes up and starts his morning routine.

After Jason says his morning prayer, his mind flashes back to the kiss with Judith. He feels like he needs to apologize. He very much enjoyed the kiss, but this is his boss. Therefore, he rushes through getting dress. He is in such a big hurry he forgets to get his pistol. He locks up, goes to Judith’s door, and knocks.

Judith is somewhat awake on the couch with the TV on. She is trying to figure out why she is on the couch. She remembers what happen a few hours before. Her mind is still trying to figure out the kiss.

She hears the knocks on the door and goes to the door without thinking, still in her camisole. She forgets to look out the peephole, unlocks, and opens the door without knowing who it is.

Jason enters and closes the door behind him.

Judith went back to the couch and pulls the afghan over her.

Jason says, “I am deeply sorry about the late night. I did not mean for it to happen.”

Judith says, “OK, we will forget it.”

Jason says, “I will fix breakfast, while you are getting dressed.”

“OK,” she gets up, goes to her room to find the outfits she usually wares. During all of this, she is still half sleep. When she is in the shower, she smells something good cooking. She finishes dressing, goes to the kitchen, and sees a breakfast fit for a Queen on her table.

Jason is in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes in a girly apron, he found it in the cabinet with her fancy party decorations. She almost laughs at seeing him in that apron.

Judith wonders, ‘Did he stay the night?’

She reassures herself, ‘Not my Templar,’ and remembers opening the door for him a few minutes earlier.

At the kitchen table, Jason pushes her chair in behind her.

“The food looks and smells great.”

Jason says, “Thank you” and pours them a cup of coffee.

Judith is eating as if she has never eaten before. Jason is also eating with delight as the TV news keeps them company.

When they are done, Jason starts to put everything away.

Judith looks at the time, “If we don’t get a move on it, we are going to be late.” She tells him, “Let’s go.”

He heads for the door, picks up his coat.

The TV says it is going to rain after lunch; Judith gets her black trench and her M4 carbine case.

As Jason is about to close and lock door, Judith turns around to see Jason still wearing that girly apron. This time she could not stop from laughing aloud.

Jason is trying to figure out what is so funny. After a few seconds, she points to the apron.

“That would be cute, going to work with that on.”

Jason looks down and sees that he still has the apron on. He rips it off and throws it in the apartment and closes the locked door.

Judith is laughing the whole time they walk to her SUV and still has short outbursts of giggling while she is driving.

At headquarters, they check in and head to their office. Walking through the division room everyone noticed Judith smiling. That is very rare eyebrows were raise.

When they get to the office, they both log into their computers.

Jason opens his Bible.

At Jason’s desk Judith, checks on his screen information and sees the electronic arrow self-stick note pointing to John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

After she goes back to her computer, Jason went back to the list that he was working on yesterday.

Judith prints Vlad’s image and photographs of other people and heads down to smuggler's cell.

Sure enough, the smuggler pointed out the photo of Vlad. She rushes to the boss’s office, briefs him on the new developments.

Her boss says, “Find Vlad and Haman as soon as possible.”

She calls the team together in the division room at the display board and gives them the latest information. Judith splits them in two groups. Half will go after Haman. The rest will try to find Vlad.

The first team gathers their equipment and heads out.

Judith, Jason, and one of the tactical team to will go after Haman, get ready to leave. As they quickly walk to their cars, Judith calls the agents following Haman and gets the address where he is located. They rush out of the enclosed parking lot in their vehicles.

When they get to the safe house that Haman is at, Judith begins to give orders. Jason gets the M4 carbine out of the trunk of the SUV. He tells Judith that he will be leading on point.

She almost orders him to stand down but time is not on their side.

She says, “Ok.”

Jason leads the men to the door. A team member puts a charge on the door and another one gets a flash bang ready. Jason gives the thumps up. The door is blow open.

In less than a second, the flash bang is in the room, and the flash goes off. Jason and the tactical team clear the house moving from room to room. Jason and another member find Haman in a back closet. Haman reaches for a pistol and both Jason and another member double tap him. He is dead.

Judith enters the house when she gets the all clear. She tries to find Jason. She is worried about him.

‘Why am I worried about him? This is unlike me!’

She found Jason going over the papers and computer files that were in the room. He found a map and other things connected to the Temple Mount. His mind is racing.

When he see Judith he says, “Vlad’s target is the Temple Mount.”

Judith says, “What?”

Jason says, “In your Israeli file about Haman, it said, ‘He left because Iran is not doing enough to unite the Islamic world.’ Haman hires Vlad because he is the best and does not care about anything but himself. If someone were to attack the Temple Mount the Islamic world would blame the State of Israel and the rest of the western world.”

Judith looked at Jason and says, “It is Friday and prayers are about to start.”

Judith orders a couple of members of the tactical team to stay and the rest to follow them.

They ran to their vehicles. Jason puts the M4 carbine in the backseat. She gets on her cell’s speaker and drives at full speed to the Temple Mount.

She briefs her boss; he puts the agency on full alert and sends out more agents. She throws the cell phone in the backseat.

As he studies the map it hits Jason, the map that Haman had in the house is a map made by the Temple Institute. It shows another way to get on the Mount. He tells Judith about it.

She knows where the alternate entrance is because her father is a history buff.

They park near the site. Judith puts her phone in the pocket of her trench coat she wears with her cell phone in the pocket to hide her M4 carbine. The rifle does not have a sling on it because she took it out while cleaning last night and forgot to put it back.

She tells Jason to stay close and to act as if they are on a date. They begin walking along very closely to each other. They were looking into each other’s eyes and talking as if they were on a date.

Jason sees Vlad, he is 500 yards away, and he tells Judith. Vlad is about to ascend the Mount.

“If he gets on the Temple Mount, that is it,” Judith says. “By law, no one who is Jewish can go on the Temple Mount.”

She stands by a column and pulls up her M4 carbine. She slowed down her breathing and does what she is trained to do as a sniper. She slowly squeezed the trigger as she lets her breath out. The shot is a perfect head shot he falls to the ground. She puts her M4 carbine back in her trench coat.

Judith and Jason walk over to Vlad, two police officers come running to investigate the shot they hear. The police officers see the two people walking over to someone who is on the ground.

One of the officers says, “Police, let me see your hands.”

Judith turns around to see what is going on.

The officers see the M4 carbine in her hand as she is turning around. Fearing for their safety, the two officers draw their pistols and fire.

At the same time as Judith is turning around Jason is too. Jason sees the officers draw their pistols. He pushes Judith out of the way and forces the M4 carbine out of her hand.

As soon as Judith sees the officers, she says loudly, “Shin Bet.”

However, by the time the officers heard her words two shots had been fired.

The two bullets hit Jason. One bullet hits him in the shoulder area; the other bullet hits him in the chest area.

Judith rushes over to Jason. She gets down on her knees and starts to apply pressure to the chest wound. Her eyes were filling with emotions.

Jason looks into her eyes and says, "I love you, My Eva."

Judith starts to cry. She says, "I love you, My Adam."

The police officers were trying to get an ambulance to the scene. Just seconds later, her agents arrived at the scene. One of her tactical medical personnel gets down on the ground with them. She started to treat Jason. The medical personnel cannot stop the hemorrhaging in the chest wound. After a few second, Jason dies. Judith cradles his head and breaks down crying.

Back at the grave, Judith kisses the rose and puts it on Jason’s grave and say, “I will always love you my Adam.” She leaves and walks back into the shadows.



Submitted August 31, 2015 at 07:39AM by thespy01 http://ift.tt/1JqUUB8 ShortStoriesCritique

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Mission 52 [1682] ShortStoriesCritique

Mission 52 - a short story [1682 words] by Joanna Pogwash

Communications... check. Control systems... check. Fuel tank 1 pressure... check. Fuel tank 2 pressure... check. Oxidizer pressure... check. Manifold pressure... check. Engine pressure... check. Auxiliaries... check. On-board... check. Stabilizers... check. Navigation systems... check. All systems... check. Sequence 1 check... complete. Green light... proceeding to countdown.

I don't care how many times you practice anything or how realistic the simulator is, it's never like the real thing. Fifteen orbital repair missions plus three stints in the Space Station, but this time was different. We were never coming back from this trip. Planetary colonization is a one-way trip. There's only enough fuel and supplies for one way, besides there will be nothing to come back to by then. My heart is racing. I must calm down. "Get a grip, kid! This is just routine." I can hear the seasoned Mission Commander say. He can sense my anxiety.

My whole life has been a preparation for this mission. Since I was old enough to hold a crayon, Mom's refrigerator was covered with my spaceships, along with the walls of my room, my sheets, and even my pajamas. I was destined to be an astronaut and I proclaimed this fact through every backpack, lunchbox, and pair of sneakers I could find and get Mom to buy. Every decision as I was growing up was made with this destiny in mind: from the courses I took in school, what sport I pursued, and which college I went to. Each one was a step closer to the Johnson Space Flight Center and ultimately this mission.

There was so much more than my obsession riding on this mission: the fifty-second act of desperation of a dying race... and probably the last. With the population growing out of control, in spite of epidemics and armed conflicts around the world, the environment becoming more toxic by the day, and resources becoming ever more scarce, mankind simply had to find another inhabitable planet, and fast. The plankton was dying and with it eighty-five percent of the planet's oxygen production. Years of waste and chemicals dumped into the sea had set this doomsday clock of nature into this, its final countdown.

Astronomers had located fifty-two most promising planets from among the many worlds that were either too hot or too cold, too big or too small, having no atmosphere or too much atmosphere to allow the solar rays to bathe the surface with life-giving energy. The days were too long or too short, no oxygen or no carbon dioxide for the plants. So many things had to be right and within such a narrow range of possibilities, that almost all were excluded, but there were fifty-two.

These fifty-two most promising planets had been arranged in order of proximity, each farther away, each requiring more and more fuel and time, stretching the limits of interstellar travel, and fifty-one had been crushing disappointments. Each one had some critical flaw, some "show-stopper," as the planetary ecologists referred to them. The first had such high levels of background radiation that the colonists didn't survive for long. The second had such high pH or alkalinity that our life, whose building blocks are amino acids, could have never survived outside of the ship. Each failed mission had sent back the discouraging news. The colonists had been brave. I reminded myself that they would have died here too. Our fate is always the same in the end.

One-by-one the candidate planets had been reached... and eliminated for some insurmountable incompatibility. One-by-one the hopes of civilization had been raised to a crescendo and dashed to the ground--the precious, life-sustaining ground. This planet we have always called home. How could we have come to this point of desperation? How could we have let these problems fester past the point of crisis to the point of no return? If we could focus our efforts sufficiently to be leaving, why could we not have focused our efforts sufficiently to preserve what we had? How many times had I asked these questions?

The trembling of the rocket--the calm before the storm of lift-off--banished these thoughts from my mind as my senses became flooded with the sensations of this indescribable rush, "we have ignition! We have lift off! Mission 52 is on its way!" The feeling of helplessness that overcomes you in the first seconds when you are pinned back, knowing that there is no safety release, no ejection seat, no parachute, and no way to turn back the fury, is both overwhelming and life-changing. Either you will make it or you won't. There are no other options and you are headed toward the outcome like a bullet out of a gun.

Six seconds in and something doesn't feel right. The shaking is too violent. There is a continuous transition from one sensation to another: the vibration, the pull against my body, the sound of the great thrusters. "Increase stabilizers." Twelve seconds in and the shaking returns to normal, or perhaps "expected" would be more accurate. Twenty-one seconds in and a warning is raised. "Relieve excess manifold pressure." Twenty-nine seconds in. "Close manifold relief."

Everything seems to function as it should for another ninety-five seconds. With two seconds left in the first stage burn, fuel pump six completely drops out, but I can't feel it. The acceleration has reached its peak, with the maximum thrust and minimum weight, as the last of the fuel is burned. It shouldn't matter. The second stage will carry us into orbit and then up to cruising speed. When we are safely out of range, I will engage the thermonuclear drive and then relax and enjoy the ride and a very long nap. The rest should be routine and boring as usual, at least it better be.

Four minutes and fifty-one seconds following ignition and the initial panic that accompanies every lift-off has past. I begin running through the systems and checks. Everything seems A-OK. The brief concern with stabilizers, the excessive manifold pressure, and even the failed fuel pump are far behind me now, floating somewhere in the Atlantic awaiting retrieval, although it will more than likely never be used again. This mission will be successful. It had better be successful!

The checks are finally complete and we engage the thermonuclear drive, which will propel our space age Ark to near light speed over a period of several months, during which we will sleep and never notice. The trip will last over eighty-seven years, but we will sleep through it all. I engage the drive and key the computer to begin the IVs. As I drift off, I reassure myself one last time: everything will go as planned and this mission will be successful. It must be successful, or there will be no one left to care.

As I begin to waken, I feel the vibration and hear the rattle and creaking of the ship. This is not right. What else has gone wrong with Mission 52? The entire left side of my body is unresponsive. My left eye will not open. Somehow I throw off the fog of hyper-sleep and manage to sit up. I'm the pilot and I must make corrections. I must collect information. I must make decisions. Others are stirring. We have reached our destination and the computer is raising us from the death-like sleep.

We're entering the atmosphere. This is not supposed to happen. We're supposed to orbit and collect data, then find a suitable place to land. This must not happen! We have no boosters to lift us from this surface. This elevator only goes down. The shaking is becoming more violent. We're descending much too fast. The angle is all wrong. As I struggle to gain some control over our fall, I hear the others report. Each has their own job to do. "Oxygen is good." "Cabin temperature is stable." "This will be a water landing, folks!" The Commander announces and then adds, "there IS an ocean and we've found it!"

If we hit anything--even water--at this speed we'll be crushed by the impact. I must get control of the ship! I must have the thrusters, but that means we'll be going faster before there's any chance of going slower. I ignite the engines and we are all pressed backward as they kick in. I hear gasps and see fear on the faces in my peripheral vision. At last we're pointed upward, but still falling fast. Too fast. Much too fast. The thrusters cannot possibly break our fall.

We hit the water and are battered by the impact. I shake my head to throw off the mental fog that threatens to engulf my mind. I have no control as we sink beneath the surface. "Will this thing even float?" I ask aloud. It does float! We slow and then begin to rise. We finally reach the surface and I see waves towering over the ship. What else could go wrong with this mission? I had to ask.

We've landed in the middle of a typhoon. We are rolled and tossed like so much debris. My nose is broken and bleeding badly. I spit out fragments of what were my front teeth. We are slammed into what I can only imagine is a beach. Over and over again we are tossed and dashed into the unforgiving sand. As I lose consciousness I see others limp and lifeless, thrown to and fro without resistance. All I can think to say is: "Mission 52 Has Failed. I repeat Failed. All is lost."

"Cool! A spaceship."

"I saw if first."

"You can have it. See if I care. Mine is better anyway."

"Look what I found, Gramps!"

"Where did that thing come from?"

"I found it in the water."

"It belongs to someone. Throw it back."

"We're the only kids here. Why can't I keep it?"

"It's covered with germs. Throw it back... and wash your hands!"

"But he has one and I don't. It's not fair!"

"It's a reject. The letters are upside down. Throw it back."

"I never get to keep anything I find."

"Go build a castle or something and quit complaining."

"When I grow up I'm going to be an astronaut and I'll have a real spaceship. You'll see."



Submitted August 05, 2015 at 05:41PM by JoannaPogwash http://ift.tt/1N9IGj3 ShortStoriesCritique

Thursday, July 30, 2015

More Personality Types ShortStoriesCritique

Gary Smalley came up with four animals as a delightful way of classifying personality types. These are:

The lion is the leader type, who likes to make decisions and take risks, but may be bossy or inflexible at times.

The otter is the enthusiastic and fun-loving type who is always ready to play, but may sometimes be impatient or flippant.

The golden retriever is the sensitive type who tries to rescue people and avoids confrontation, even when it may be necessary.

The beaver is the perfectionist who must do it all, never breaks a rule, and is likely to insist that you do it all too and never break a rule either.

Myers & Briggs may put you to sleep and you might not be able to remember what the letters mean, but classifying your friends and family members in terms of these four animals will have you rolling on the floor laughing. With that in mind, I've always wanted to expand the list. I hope you enjoy these too, because I know you have them in your family. We all do!

The fox is sly and cunning, always looking for the next tasty meal that can be obtained without paying for it. Foxes are smart and fun to watch, as long as they're after someone else's chickens.

The skunk always has something to say that shouldn't be said and can clear out a room in seconds. No amount of deodorizer can undo what comes out of them. You simply can't trust them not to let it out and at the worst possible time.

The badger isn't so bad to have around, but don't you dare back them into a corner, because, if you do, they will rip you to shreds and retreat into their hole.

The snake is always looking for someone to strike and it's probably going to be you sooner or later. They also have an endless supply of venom and know just where to inject it in order to inflict the most damage.

The coyote is always scheming, but never working and never succeeding. The coyote will expend far more effort trying to get something for nothing than it would have taken to earn it legitimately in the first place. The coyote always needs money and has a "sure thing" for you to invest in.

The roadrunner leaves everyone in the dust and can't be caught. They can also get away with anything. The roadrunner can sell freezers to Eskimos and sand to Bedouins. On the rare occasion that a roadrunner is pulled over, they're sure to get a warning, rather than a citation.

The pig can make a mess anywhere out of anything and has never once cleaned up after the party. They can also inhale an entire refrigerator full of food faster than you can say, "oink!"

The turtle hardly ever comes out of its shell and snaps back in at the first sign of danger or anything else. They interpret everything as a personal attack.

The magpie simply won't shut up. They aren't just a part of every conversation. They ARE every conversation.

You're never quite sure what a squirrel is going to do or say, but you just know they're up to something and if you can't find it, they probably have it tucked away someplace safe.

The pit bull can and will start an argument with anyone at any time. They can and will bite and they don't let go when they do.

Sheep are just stupid. They can get stuck in the corner of a circular room. Sheep respond to Emails from the Prime Minister of Nigeria, who desperately needs their bank account information in order to save that nation's economy in exchange for a 5% cut.

The warthog is a combination of the pig and pit bull with some skunk thrown in for good measure.

Whatever story you might have to tell, the jay can top it. I don't care what it is, the jay has already done something better. If you won a gold medal in swimming, the jay swam across the Atlantic. If you've actually walked on the moon, the jay WAS the moon in a previous life. I don't care who you know, the jay knows three people who are far more important. If you're related to George Washington, the jay is related to Jesus. If you were a princess in a previous life, the jay was Nefertiti. (I actually heard this last one!)

And what's more, the fox, the skunk, the badger, the snake, the coyote, the roadrunner, the pig, the turtle, the magpie, the squirrel, the pit bull, the sheep, the warthog, and the jay are all coming for Thanksgiving!



Submitted July 31, 2015 at 02:49AM by JoannaPogwash http://ift.tt/1LTEcym ShortStoriesCritique

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Free at Last (or the Bliss of despair) Part One ShortStoriesCritique


Flying through the night sky the little bird dove and lifted as it chased its frightened prey. The silvery moonlight danced on the bird’s petite yet intricate feathers, each moving and changing direction as the bird danced creating an endless pattern of reflected light. The deadly dances lasted hours upon hours throughout the night. Silence only penetrated by the barely audible snap of the birds claws closing around its unlucky midnight snack. As soon as the first licks of light peaked over the stagnant mountain tops did the bird’s plight come to an end. The little bird would disappear into the still dark forest to rest, only returning when the tired earth seemingly swallowed the sun giving way to the night. Each and every night Perry watched the little bird carry out its chaotic yet oddly peaceful ritual. His eyes would follow the bird but his mind would wander; meandering across his hopes and dreams, daily activities and most frequent of all, his mother. Perry had nothing better to do for his condition left him fully rested and awake with only an hour of sleep each night. The summer had always been and easier time for Perry to cope with his unusual sleeping habits. Day by day, week by week, month by month he followed the same schedule until the summer had finally run its course. After his mother went to bed promptly at nine pm Perry slept for his allotted one hour and would commence watching the little bird, his eyes glued to the action taking place outside. Perry’s mother, Colina, worked nearly nine hours a day slaving away at her tedious job at Hawkes Law Firm on the other side of town. The job was high paying in cash and stress. Colina’s only relief was sleep and the time she spent with her son each night before bed. Soon she would have to part with her son for the summer would be over in less than a week. At summers end , Perry would return to the city to live with his father and attend school. He had been selected to attend a K-12 charter school. The long school hours followed by dangerous amounts of homework kept Perry busy well into the night. Unlike his mother, who he would see at schedule times, Perry’s father was never home. He could be gone on business’ trips for weeks on end only to return while Perry was at school. By the time he arrived home, another note would be plastered to the refrigerator giving another excuse for his absence. Perry was glad his birthday was at beginning of summer, sparing him a lonely evening. Despite all of this, he loved having the house all to himself and was completely capable of managing his survival when forced to live without his mother. But something had changed this summer between Perry and his mother. She was becoming increasingly distant, opting to go to bed earlier and earlier every night. He could see the mournful way she looked at him and had heard her crying to herself multiple times throughout the summer. Perry feared that he was becoming a burden to her already demanding lifestyle. As much as it saddened him he believed that his departure to the city would allow his mother to return to her usual tired yet still giddy self. Colina was tired. So very tired. Physically, mentally, spiritually. She couldn’t see any direction or purpose in her life and she knew that she was failing her son. She wasn’t blind and saw how her son longingly glanced at her, begging for her to be responsive, but she could only look away. Colina supposed she was unfit to be a mother and would not ruin her son any more than she already had. Perry was the only thing tethering her to worldly life and even that bond was beginning to tear apart. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on for. But the summer was not over yet and both Perry and Colina had at least one more night, Colinas Birthday, to make up for lost time or at least façade their happiness together.


It was quarter of seven and Perry was ecstatic. He wanted everything to be perfect when his other arrived home and they could celebrate Colinas birthday together. Decorations were up, the cake was baked and frosted and her favorite television series- The Facts of Life- was queued up set on a marathon. Even Perry’s mysterious father had left a voice message wishing Colina a happy day. All that was left to do was wait for his mother to come home.







Submitted March 04, 2015 at 03:35AM by Storyteller12345 http://ift.tt/1DHEOj6 ShortStoriesCritique

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Shadow ShortStoriesCritique


Recently I landed a new job which required me to move to a new area. After weeks of searching I found what I thought to be the perfect home, a small ranch style two bed room house set back in a lightly wooded area. There were neighbors but still a great deal of privacy.


Work kept me busy, leaving very little time for a social life which made it difficult to meet anyone. After getting the house settled, I decided adopting a kitten would break up the loneliness of living alone, plus cats were typically independent so a busy work schedule would not affect its care.


The weekend rolled around, and I took a trip down to the local shelter a trip that proved to be majorly unsuccessful. Disappointed I headed back home. As I pulled into my drive way I noticed a black speck dash across my line of vision. A KITTEN? I tried, unsuccessfully, to lure the cat to me. It was getting dark, and I needed to get inside to start dinner. I left some scraps of food on the porch in case the cat decided to return.


A few hours later I heard a soft meowing outside the door. Overjoyed I opened the door to find the tiny tuxedo kitten nibbling on the bits of of food I left on the door step. Taking this as a sign of fate I brought him inside to give him a warm place to sleep. I got an old blanket and made him a makeshift bed on the couch. The next morning I woke up to find him rejected the soft couch arrangement, as cats do, and found him sleeping on the dining room table chair opposite from where I sit.


Whenever I was home the cat would follow me through the house without fail. Fittingly, I named him Shadow. Where ever I went, Shadow went. When I woke up in the morning I would find him curled up in front of my door sleeping. He would sit on the toilet while I showered. When I got home from work, he would be at the door to greet me. All through the house wherever I went, Shadow followed. The only time he was not following me, was when I was in the kitchen. There he would sit in what became “his chair” and just stare at me.


As things at work began to settle down, I began to have more time for a social life. Family visited, friends visited. Everyone who entered the house received a warm welcome from Shadow - which was strange, as growing up all previous cats had always been apprehensive, if not terrified of any guests that came into the house. Around this time I also met a nice man named Scott. He worked in the office next to mine, we hit things off and started seeing each other. After a few weeks of getting lunches and coffee together I invited him over for dinner. Shadow greeted the new guest with an unexpected aggressive growl.


The entire dinner Shadow sat on top of the refrigerator starring Scott down. I jokingly said, "He's upset you took his seat". When he got up to help clear the table Shadow arched his back hissing, and darted off the refrigerator and out of the room. I explained to him how strange this was, as Shadow is usually a very friendly cat. Scott laughed, said not to worry. I walked him to the door and we said Good Night. Shadow was nowhere to be found the rest of the night.


The next morning, our usual routine of shadow cat returned. I continued to see Scott, and our relationship progressed deeper. However, every time Scott entered the house Shadow had the same aggressive hostile reaction. I told a coworker about this and she joked about the cat sensing Scott was a serial killer.


Around Christmas we both had a few days off for the holiday - we made plans during that time to visit both our families for the holiday because we had yet to all meet each other. A few days before Christmas Scott and I made plans to have a relaxing evening at my place before the craziness of meeting families and holidays began. We planned to spend the night together, then wake up early the next morning and make a take a trip to our families.


At some point in the night I felt Scott get out of bed, and heard him go into the bathroom - when he returned he left the bedroom door cracked open. In the morning I woke up to a tapping sound, lying in bed I tried to determine what this sound. This was not a tapping, it was a dripping sound... I thought it must have stormed during the night and the roof was leaking? Was the water left on?


I rolled over to wake Scott and see Shadow siting on Scott's chest, in a puddle of blood, purring.







Submitted October 30, 2014 at 11:40PM by poprocksandcola http://www.reddit.com/r/ShortStoriesCritique/comments/2ksxr6/shadow/ ShortStoriesCritique