Uncensored Original Chapter

Hey all,

This is the original version of a chapter.  I was compelled to "clean it up" by some snobby types.  Let me know which version you like best!

Enjoy,
Ken

The Day After the Election, 2008

The five men moved through the pre-dawn darkness with military precision. Two in the group were former Navy SEALs, two more were former Marine Force Recon and the last had been an Army Ranger. The team wore night camouflage gear and night vision goggles, and each member was armed with a Glock 19 with an internal laser sight and a Panzerfaust PzF 3 IT-600 recoilless anti-tank weapon. In less than four minutes, they cut through the chain-linked fence on the side of King County International Airport opposite the main terminal.

Crouching, the team scrambled to the safety of the cover of the Boeing Field Air Museum and hugged the building’s walls as they advanced toward runway 31L. The leader, codenamed “Major Erection,” signaled for the group to halt as he checked his Blackberry 8800 for last-minute incoming intelligence.

“Okay,” the leader said into his headset for the rest of the group to hear. “The bordello says the satellite images show the area as clear. Airport security just finished their rounds. Rodzilla and Tripod, stay here and cover us. Kong Dong and Sugartits, you’re with me.”

Snickering crackled in everyone’s headset.

“Dammit, Mel…” Sugartits began.

“No names! No names!” Major Erection shot back.

“Right,” Sugartits said, slightly hurt. It was an odd look for a six-foot-seven commando who looked like he chased down bears and killed them barehanded for sport. “Why did I have to be Sugartits?”

“Peckerhead? Numbnuts?” Tripod offered with a chuckle.

“Yardstick? Penis Supremus? Thundercock?” Rodzilla volunteered to the delight of his cackling teammates.

“Shit, even Weird Al Yankitoff would be better than Sugartits,” Sugartits grumbled.

Major Erection turned around and got in Sugartits’ face; being a good eight inches shorter than Sugartits, he looked reminiscent of Sergeant Carter chewing out Gomer Pyle. “Listen, Sugartits, next time don’t come in last place in the obstacle course three times in a row. Be glad your handle isn’t Liberace or Metrosexual for that pathetic performance. Be glad you’re on this mission at all instead of standing guard at ZX-16.” ZX-16 was a guard hut on an Aleutian island slightly larger than a postage stamp. As a bonus, the island was really the tip of an active volcano. Three men stationed there had died over the last seven years.

“The only reason you’re here is that you’re the best marksman we have with these,” Major Erection said, stroking his Panzerfaust. Then the leader gazed around the rest of the group scornfully. “Now, zip it, girls.”

“Kong Dong and Sugartits, with me to position B in three, two, one, mark!”

The three commandos ran crouching to a black four-foot by six-foot metal box in the middle of the grass on the other side of runway 31L. The men hid on the side of the box that faced the short end of the runway.

Major Erection whipped out his cell phone and awaited further intelligence dispatches. Three minutes later, he said, “Girls, the Oreo is in the milk…I repeat: the Oreo is in the milk. T minus 840.”

Sugartits did a quick calculation in his head. 840 divided by 60. Fourteen minutes. Why the hell couldn’t Mel just say that instead…? They weren’t in the military. Why did they have to pretend to be? He hated the fucking military. If he liked being in the military, he’d still be there. Actually, he wouldn’t. The pay really sucked compared to this gig, but all of this military shit was irritating.

By the terminal, the men could hear engines from a couple of the Lear jets roar to life.

“T minus 300. Prepare to engage.”

Two Lear jets were taxiing to the far end of Runway 31L, almost two miles away.

“Confirmed. The Oreo is in the second glass of milk. Repeat: the Oreo is in the second glass of milk. Girls, everyone but Rodzilla go for the second glass of milk. Rodzilla, wait until second glass of milk has been spilled before engaging the first glass of milk, just in case intel is wrong.”

“Roger that, Major,” Rodzilla said.

The first Lear jet’s engines roared much louder and the jet sped down the runway. Five seconds later, the second Lear jet did the same.

“T minus thirty. Prepare to fire.”

“…Twenty…”

The jets’ front wheels pulled off the runway.

“…Ten…”

The jets’ back wheels lifted off the runaway.

“T minus five…fire at will,” Major Erection said, pulsing with excitement.

Instantly, four Panzerfaust rounds were screaming toward the second Lear jet. The men ducked for cover to avoid the fireball and shrapnel as the second jet exploded.

Rodzilla recovered and aimed his Panzerfaust at the first jet when it flipped upside down because of the concussive wave of the other jet’s explosion and crashed into grass 500 feet past the men.

“Damn,” Rodzilla said. “You bastards took them both out.”

“Two for one sale, baby!”

“Shut up, Sugartits,” Rodzilla grumbled. “Or was that Tranny?”

Sugartits started, “I’m going to fucking kill…”

“Zip it, girls,” Major Erection spurted. “Mission accomplished. Let’s get out of here.”

Emergency crews in fire trucks were already exiting the building next to the terminal as the team sprinted back to the opening in the fence.