The Collection: Short Stories, Misfits, and One-shots

The Takeover

Happy Tuesday guys!   This was one of the last assignmentsa that I wrote for my fiction writing course earlier this spring.  Great course, just a little different than the normal classes that just demand you write essays.  Worth it though.  The assignment this time was to come up with a new technology, and then write how it went wrong.  Hope you enjoy it, and don't forget to comment and vote.  :)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They hadn't told him when he accepted the job just how boring it could be. He was being paid simply to sit there and type into a computer, code they fed him. The typing though was welcomed in comparison to the days where the tank wasn't even used. Those were the days where he wished he didn't have to be on call. He could talk to Daniel, who worked with him, but most of the time they shut each other out, focusing on the minuscule details they were instructed to send to the tank. It involved everything from the coordinates and routes the tank would follow to the complicated inspection that had to be run on all its weapons daily. In a mission, there couldn't be weapon jams or misfiring. If it did happen, they would be in serious trouble, since lives depended on this one weapon he had never actually seen. On the one hand, he was safe since the computer they sat at was moved constantly, but that also meant he had zero chance at a relationship. It was hard not to feel bitter as he typed yet another command for the tank to move to yet another location.

He was unskilled with reading coordinates, but he could just barely make out the general area; a city in the northern stretch of Africa. He erased the thought from his mind and updated the command, letting the tank check it with its parameters. The silence of the room often made him drowsy, but the coffee he had been filling hourly had him wired for once. When the clang echoed around the small room he almost fell out of his seat, his head whipping to the high security door that stood between them and whoever wanted in.

Daniel stopped typing beside him and turned in his seat, sliding his headphones off his ears. "What was that?" he asked hesitantly, his gaze on the large titanium door. Nathan didn't reply, his hand instead slipping under the desk and falling on the cold metal of a gun. The clanging hadn't stopped, only increasing as they sat there in a haunted silence. There was protocol for this situation, but it never occurred to him that anything would ever happen, his work had always seemed docile enough. The men on the other side though were determined, a sizable dent forming in the middle of the door.

Daniel cursed as he turned back to his keyboard, typing in a string of commands, trying to shut down their connection. That was when the door swung open, armed men striding in, their guns raised and pointed right in the direction of Nathan and Daniel; they had done their homework. Nathan was quick to raise his hands in the air, swiveling his chair to hide the gun that had been strapped under the desk. Daniel though, had hardly acknowledged the men, his fingers still darting over the keys, the code growing longer on the screen. "Stop typing!" A man stepped out of the group and came closer to them, his gun focused on Daniel and his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Daniel didn't stop.

"I said stop," he repeated, his accent making the words thick and even more malicious. The barrel of his gun was rested on Daniel's head, nearly pushing him down on the keyboard. Finally, Daniel stopped typing, his hands raising in surrender. "Now, you two are going to listen carefully and follow my every word." His gun lowered, but remained at his side. "Do you understand that?" He scrutinized their nods, waiting for another false move. "Good." He beckoned another man forward and whispered something, the younger man pulling out a paper and placing it on their desk.

"I'm right to assume that all you need is the code, yes?" He made a motion at the paper, and smiled when Daniel affirmed his assumption with a terse "yes". "I'll let you two do your work then." A chair was pulled up for him and Nathan watched as he sat himself languidly in it, his eyes watching the kill code from earlier disappear off the screen. He made a wave with his hand, the smile disappearing as he said, "Carry on. We don't have all day."

Nathan turned back to his monitor, positioning himself in front of the gun again, and looked at the paper. The code was exactly the way it always was; nondescript, but exact on what was to happen. There was a location, attack order, and an additional rendezvous order. Rendezvous weren't unusual, but they only occurred if there was another move indicated; this time there wasn't another move. They were going to steal the tank altogether. His eyes moved to the corner of his screen where he could make out the reflection of the man. From his accent, he figured they were from the Middle East, but their target wasn't far from where the tank already was, its new location being in southern Libya.

He was aware of most of the conflict zones where the United States operated, many being in the Middle East, and now in Northern Africa as well. Conflict constantly spread where governments had gone wrong, or had been radically changed. Libya was one of the newly appointed conflict zones, one where radical factions warred with kidnapping, and killing key targets; it was a hotbed for a political war disaster.

Daniel must haverecognized the same issue, his fingers typing in the code, but there was adifference in what was on the paper and what was on his screen. No. Nathan stopped plugging in the code, andreached under his desk, using as little movement as possible. The man behind them though had noticed theadditional code and had stood, his gun raising and emitting a loud boom. Daniel's body fell against the desk, bloodcoating the keyboard. Nathan snatched hisgun out of its holster and turned, the safety already off, but the man was readyfor him. The same sound echoed in theroom, Nathan falling out of his chair, clutching his chest where the bullet hadgone in. He watched in horror as the manstepped over him, and typed something in, pressing the enter key, and thenlooking down at him. "It was so simple,and yet you boys wanted to be heroes. Unfortunate, really." He shookhis head, and shot Nathan once more, ending the soldier's misery.