106 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
106 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
### ###
|
|
### ###
|
|
### #### ### ### ### ####
|
|
### ### ##### ### ###
|
|
### ### ### ### ###
|
|
### ### ##### ### ###
|
|
########## ### ### ##########
|
|
### ###
|
|
### ###
|
|
|
|
Underground eXperts United
|
|
|
|
Presents...
|
|
|
|
####### ## ## ####### # # #### ## ## ## ##
|
|
## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
|
|
#### ## ## #### # # ## ####### #######
|
|
## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ##
|
|
## ## ####### ####### # # ###### ## ##
|
|
|
|
[ Vengeance! ] [ By Hedge ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________________________________________________
|
|
____________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
"VENGEANCE!"
|
|
|
|
written by HEDGE
|
|
|
|
|
|
The revenge is sweeter than a cold sorbet!"
|
|
- Colonel Sponz
|
|
|
|
|
|
He sat in a four-cornered room staring at candles. Without focusing, his
|
|
eyes kept looking right into the flickering light, and you could see that
|
|
he was concentrating on keeping them that way. The silence was almost
|
|
unbearable, you could occasionally hear the low thunder of airplanes
|
|
passing, but aside from that, numbing silence. Who knows what went on
|
|
inside his head at that time. God knows he had a lot to think about, but
|
|
it seemed he needed to get it together, to sort the bad from the worse so
|
|
to speak. It all had happened so fast. Only a few hours earlier this
|
|
place had been his apartment, but now it came closer to a pile of garbage
|
|
in resemblance.
|
|
|
|
The police had done a thorough job. He hadn't even had time to switch
|
|
off the equipment after his last visit in the Network, before they had come
|
|
crashing into the apartment. The only remainder of that there once had
|
|
been a computer there was a black power cord dangling from a back of a
|
|
chair. Somehow they must have forgotten it, he thought, not looking at it.
|
|
He kept his eyes concentrated on the candles. Somehow you got the
|
|
impression that he wasn't ready to deal with the destruction just yet.
|
|
Knowing was enough, seeing it could perhaps only make things worse.
|
|
|
|
They had come. Everything which could possible (in their minds) have a
|
|
value in their investigation they had taken. He had a faint memory of
|
|
someone speaking to him during all this, but no matter how hard he tried,
|
|
he could not remember the words. All he could recall was floorboards being
|
|
broken up, plates smashed and other pieces of furniture being destroyed in
|
|
their "search". They even broke his only source of light, the lamp
|
|
dangling from the ceiling. He mildly wondered what on earth they had
|
|
expected to find in a light bulb. The only thing of interest they hadn't
|
|
found was now on the table in front of him, beside the candles. The thing
|
|
was a Glock 17. He had stolen it during his military service and had had
|
|
many enjoying experiences with it since. Although he lacked a permit for
|
|
it, there was usually never any problems in getting hold of ammunition to
|
|
it. Most of the time, it was only a few phone calls away. He had kept it
|
|
well hidden under a fake floor in one of his closets, and the police hadn't
|
|
been able to find it. It was loaded, and lay there beside the candles,
|
|
gleaming.
|
|
|
|
Beside the gun lay a receipt with a phone number on it. He knew it went
|
|
to the chief prosecutor of this investigation, and before he sat down in
|
|
front of the candles, he had managed to get hold of the prosecutors name
|
|
and address. He still had some friends he thought slowly. Even if some of
|
|
those he earlier considered to be his friends had cooperated with the
|
|
police and told them all they knew about him. Just to save their own
|
|
asses! He had their names as well...
|
|
|
|
You could feel the atmosphere in the room change as the man suddenly
|
|
stood up and looked at what was left of his apartment. It was like
|
|
something had came clear to him, and that he knew. You could see the
|
|
difference in his eyes as well. Gone was the shocked thousand yard stare.
|
|
It had been replaced by a confident look which knew what was to be done,
|
|
and how to do it. He grabbed the gun, cocked it and headed towards the
|
|
door. Beside the door he stopped and put on his black leather jacket, and
|
|
let the gun slide down in one of its big pockets. As he stepped out in the
|
|
dark autumn night he could hear the noise of the big city clearly through
|
|
the brisk cold air. He stood there for a while breathing. He then started
|
|
the short walk towards the subway station where a train would take him to
|
|
the city.
|
|
|
|
The only thing he could think of as he slowly descended down the stairs
|
|
into the underground was some addresses he somehow had gotten hold of...
|
|
|
|
|
|
Don't get mad, Get Even!!!
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
uXu #144 Underground eXperts United 1993 uXu #144
|
|
Call THE PHROZEN REALM -> +1-514-738-2105
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|