Gauntlet - Episode 21.

Episode 21 – Word Always Travels Past the Warden

Buried deep underground, like an unpleasant memory was the primary prison of Newport. It had never been given an official name, at least not on any of the recorded documents. But when you were told you were heading to ‘The Graveyard,’ you knew you were being given a one way ticket underground. Nobody ever returned from The Graveyard, and typically only the most dangerous individuals were sentenced to spend the rest of their days without even the comfort of sunlight. It was a harsh place reserved for the hardest of criminals.

Born out of necessity, The Graveyard was originally little more than an abandoned mining operation. Located a few miles down from the surface diggers struck some of the densest stone they had ever encountered. As they hollowed their way out they discovered that the resilient rock surrounded them completely, leaving only the pocket space they had cleared. The whole operation ended up going under in the endeavor and the mine was closed off.

Unwilling to waste precious resources to ferry prisoner’s off-world, the New Republic soon decided a facility located on Newport itself was needed. And with the rights to any land defaulted on reverting back to the New Republic they could further cut back on their costs to construct a suitable confinement center. It was a match made in heaven; a low-cost local site to try and lock away the worst threats to an unbalanced bottom line.

And of all the men and women ever sent down to its abysmal depths; Adrian Taurus was perhaps the most perfectly placed prisoner. It was an undisputed truth among the underworld that Taurus was at its top. He had earned for himself a ruthless reputation that nearly rivaled his massive frame. Many a man had met a grizzly end by running afoul of Taurus’ infamous temper. At least locked away in the dark it was assumed that the Red Bull himself and his rage couldn’t harm anyone again. Or at least, that was the general idea anyway.

Adrian always enjoyed the poetic irony prison provided though. Here he was, buried beneath all of Newport to make everyone above him rest easier. The truth of the matter though was that it was he who was beyond reach down here. Down in The Graveyard nobody could blame anything on the notorious Red Bull himself. He was beyond suspicion; free to run his nefarious network without any annoying irritations – like staying out of jail. In fact the only others down here with him were all loyal underlings; servants one might say, all willingly imprisoned to maintain the illusion of a fully functioning facility.

Honestly, Adrian found the whole deal hilarious. The fools had made it all so easy for him to plant his own people everywhere he needed. It was just one of those same people that he now was waiting on, and Adrian Taurus despised having to wait for anything. Patience had never agreed with him, perhaps it was something about his nature but he found the exercise of trying to do so infuriating. The need made it worse pushed his restraint to its limits – five minutes past the scheduled delivery time was unacceptable.

Already Adrian could feel his last dose of Red Blood becoming dangerously close to wearing off. Any sign of weakness could not be tolerated, and that meant that nobody could discover his addiction. Was that a tremor trying to terrorize its way up his arm Adrian wondered? A grunt became a growl as the strange symptom was silenced by his fist slamming violently into what might have been a cot at some previous point.

“Sorry boss,” spoke a hushed voice from behind him marked by the fear of seeing Taurus’s massive might mangling, well, anything. “Here is your care package sir; the delivery guy had to work around some guards. Seems they were too busy swapping news about some business going on in Redemption and he had a terrible time getting this by them without getting caught.”

“What news would that be then,” Adrian asked as he accepted his delivery with every ounce of willpower he could muster to not immediately tear into it. “Oh, yeah, that; it’s just some fresh fool who has showed up trying to play hero. Apparently the word is that he even gunned down the Bot Brothers.”

That got Adrian’s attention, and provided him just enough distraction to take his mind off having to wait – almost. “I don’t care who this joker thinks he is or what Arbiter has to say on the matter; send word to Dyzon that this guy is gone. As in instant extinction; I will not tolerate even a single fly to provide us with even a possible problem. Crush him,” Adrian ordered.

“Oh, and one more thing before you go; get rid of the delivery guy. I will not forgive tardiness, no matter the reason.” The emphasis in his tone made the meek minion quickly relocate to less hazardous environments. Once he was alone again Adrian rushed to remove a fresh vial of scarlet shaded liquid. The small tube rolled about in his fingertips and the feel of its promised pleasure made his digits dance.

There was a simple click as the crimson cylinder snapped into place in the injector. Automatically he went the familiar motions to check that everything was in order and then pressed the device to his throat. The rush was like riding a wave of raw thunder as it arced its way through his nerves. Red once more colored his vision as the drug took hold and a torrent of synthetic adrenaline coursed through his veins.

If Eris had already lost all three Bot Brothers then she had come up short with this nameless man. No matter, Dyzon would probably relish the chance to show her up anyhow, Adrian knew. And if he didn’t dispose of this drifter then he could easily arrange for his disappointments to be relocated down here with him. There was a good reason nobody ever made it back out of The Graveyard.

Gauntlet - Episode 20.

Episode 20 – Combine and Conquer

“You know, you really have a knack for stepping into the biggest messes,” Marshall quietly told himself as he slipped back away from view. “Now you have no less than two separate crews of criminals in town to deal with, and both of the most prominent town officials appear to be dirty to boot. Right about now would be a real great time to pull a rabbit out of your hat – if you had any tricks left that is.”

Marshall continued to distance himself from the bulk of Redemptions residents while he tried to think thing through. “Great,” he casually commented, “and now you’re talking to yourself.” Things were really off to a wonderful start. This was far from anything like the stories he loved as a child – at least in them the town didn’t turn on the hero. Or did they, he didn’t recall any like that but then again a lot had happened since he was a kid. Not to mention he’d slept since then too.

“So, what’s the plan, man,” Marshall found himself asking aloud. Oddly enough the inquiry prompted him to respond reflexively, it was important to not be rude. Even if you were the one talking – to yourself. “Good question; wish I knew.” Strategically speaking he wasn’t in the strongest of positions; he was outnumbered, public opinion wasn’t on his side and to be honest he still felt guilty about not being able to disable those explosives.

“This is where I guess I am supposed to rally myself behind the notion of divide and conquer. But right now I think it is a safe bet that getting caught in any manner of crossfire might be hazardous to my health. No, not with the way my luck keeps playing out. What I wouldn’t give to have them all in one spot just long enough…”

Something in that thought jarred his gears loose and sent his mind stampeding forward. It was the craziest thing, a potentially tactical nightmare; he was going to combine and conquer. Separately it was all too easy for one crew to catch him engaged with the other and try to off them both. He was just one man after all, how hard would it be to shoot him in the back while he was busy in a shootout with your rivals? Too easy, that was for sure.

No, if either the Bull-Boys or Dizcords Daemons didn’t put him into the ground then the Sheriff was going to have him lynched by a town mob. None of which was his idea of good time, Marshall decided. But if he could make himself into just enough of a nuisance he might be able to nudge them into grouping up to eliminate him as a common problem. And if that was the case, just maybe he could capitalize on their less than harmonious dispositions.

Perhaps it wasn’t the most brilliant plan to ever be hatched, Marshall considered. Maybe it was even just a tad bit insane – alright full-blown crazy. But right now, crazy seemed to be the best option he had, if not the only option. “Now, if I wanted to really annoy a whole mess of thieving low-lives’; what would I do?”  

And now he was back to square one; another question he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Boy, you best get in here; you have work to see to,” Grandma Grael called at him from her store front. “Don’t think for a second you’re going to keep wandering off and avoiding your jobs!” Had he really just walked back to the General Good without realizing it?

“Yes, Ma’am,” Marshall answered the agitated glare leveled his way and headed inside. “Why aren’t you gathered with everyone else,” he asked as he passed her. “For the same reason as you, I have never been a fan of empty words or pointless political performances. We both know it’s all just a song and dance show. Arbiter and Demure both are going to do whatever they want to do whether anybody approves or not. So I don’t see any sense in wasting my valuable time with their foolishness.”

As Marshall sat himself to work on his tasks Grandma Grael quietly appeared behind him. “Never you mind though; if anyone asks you’ve been hard at it in the back. I’ve had my eyes on you the whole time, not that anyone would question my word on the matter.”

Gauntlet - Episode 19.

Episode 19 – The Reaction of Redemption

“You know this goes a lot easier when you don’t have to worry about setting something off and an extra pair of eyes starring down at you over your shoulder.” Marshall could feel a bead of sweat as it trickled down from his temple to land on his collar. He was already feeling his frustration growing with every heartbeat. Was it a series or parallel circuit that you could interrupt by removing something from it? Why did have to go and jinx himself by saying something? Marshall thrice cursed his big mouth under his breath and wiped at the growing moisture upon his brow.

“Rook,” Marshall said as politely as he could manage, a slight edge present in his tone. “You could keep an eye on our frigid friend and make sure she hasn’t dazzled us by defrosting herself somehow. I really need to concentrate here.” The idea of accidentally choosing the wrong wire worried at him, he wanted nothing more than to simply rip every single one of those irritating things out all at once.

Deputy Rook made some subtle sound of agreement before returning to examine their cold-clad captive. The makeshift prison of improvised ice still seemed to have her held solidly enough, but a quickening drip heralded that was not promising to last much longer. “She appears to be thawing,” Rook relayed.”

“Well, looks like we are out of time for being careful, here goes nothing,” Marshall told himself. He grabbed a handful of wires with either hand and yanked at both with a desperate jerk. It took him a split second at first before he reminded himself to open his eyes and breathe – they were still there. “Come on, let’s get everybody out of here and fast!”

♦♦♦

By dawn the majority of the town had gathered together near the center of town, a common look of mixed confusion and fear present on their faces. Both Mayor Demure and Sheriff Arbiter stood poised on a small platform calling for quiet. “We all no doubt are aware by now of the unfortunate events that have happened,” Mayor Demure announced as the shuffling crowd grew silent.

“No one can say that living out here on the edge isn’t without its dangers. Mines collapse, fires can take our homes, and even wild beasts have to be contended with from time to time.” Demure carried herself with a casual grace as she spoke, careful to convey an image of concern and authority. She hadn’t secured her seat behind the Mayor’s desk without perfecting the performance that went along with the public’s expectations of the persona.

“But I think we can all agree that we have been doing fairly well all things considered for some time now. Redemption has managed to carve for itself and its citizens a relatively respectful place out here on the edge. We have learned to live with the occasional petty problems of bandits, and even manage to get by without the support of our so-called supportive government.

However, a new issue has arisen that threatens our town. Sundown Sanctuary was burned to the grown last night and the whereabouts of my own secretary have yet to be discovered. According to the reports that we have been able to piece together we have a vigilante on the loose who took it upon himself to interfere when the Sheriff should have been called. Now we have a treasured landmark and part of our town’s history lost to us because of a drifter. Obviously he must have thought he was helping somehow, but instead this ‘Gauntlet’ character’s actions directly resulted in a fiery explosion that could have spread to harm untold townsfolk.

The Sheriff has even informed me that this reckless renegade has been confirmed as engaging in gunfights on our streets. He has even gone so far as to gun down three individuals who as far as we know may have simply been involved in a vehicular accident at the bank. Can we honestly allow a man, a stranger to run about our town and violently take action as he pleases? Is not the job of maintaining law and order that of our Sheriff?”

A growing murmur rippled through the gathered crowd of townsfolk as they began to consider the Mayor’s questions. For some who had witnessed this Gauntlet, he had seemed like someone honestly trying to help protect them. To others he sounded like another fever-brained fool who was only going to cause more trouble. As the conversations continued the volume of the puzzled public grew.

“As the Sheriff of Redemption, I hereby call for a vote of its citizens on the grounds of public-safety,” Arbiter announced over the rising roar of debate. “We can either allow such outlaw justice to run wild through our town or we can declare here and now that it will not be tolerated and condemn anyone so engaged an enemy of the law.”

Once more the massed people of Redemption ceased their chatter. “I have sworn to keep the peace and I aim to do just that. So either way I will serve the will of the town. Which is it going to be? Do we allow this Gauntlet to keep doing as he pleases until he destroys more of Redemption, or do we brand him an outlaw and vigilante?”

Solemnly Mayor Demure lowered her head and pursed her lips before she called for the vote herself. “All those agreed that such reckless actions are more harm than good for our beloved town, please raise your hand.” Slowly a majority of those gathered began to raise their hands. Some shakily at first, others hesitated as they looked around them. A lengthening measure of moments soon confirmed that there weren’t enough hands left lowered to challenge the issue. The people of Redemption had spoken, and they had declared this Gauntlet an enemy of the public.

Marshall watched on as the people of Redemption condemned the one man who had dedicated himself to the cause of being their champion. Inside a part of him was pained by the turn of events. But as his eyes regarded the two figures at the heart of the gathered group his pain was paled by his determination. He would not rest until he removed both of them from office, and from town. They could blame him all they liked, but at least he knew the truth of who was a plague upon the town. And he would see it removed, no matter what.

Gauntlet - Episode 18.

Episode 18 – Freeze You Fire Bombing Freak

Deputy Rook rose from his desk and discovered his thoughts rushing like a river. The words Marshall had spoke to him still crashed against his conscience reminding him as they did of how right he had been. His hands had never truly been tied, not literally in any case. Instead he had only ever allowed himself to blindly follow in the Sheriff’s footsteps, only meekly obey orders.

Well, he decided, it was high time that those days were over. Arbiter could fall down a mine shaft for all he cared; he was done turning a blind eye to his duty as the town’s deputy. Rook reached over to the wall a lifted an old black plastic handle that hung from a u-shaped piece of metal and pressed it to his ear. It might not have been as fancy as any of the more modern commlinks in use, but it still worked well enough to place a call.

The auto-dialer never had worked on the thing, so Rook manually punched in the number for the General Good and waited. “He isn’t here, Rook,” Grandma Grael answered immediately. Stunned by her statement, and the implication that she expected his call, Rook stumbled for a response. “Some is holed up at Sundown Sanctuary and making threats, he headed that way to try and see if he might defuse the situation but I think sparks will fly either way. You best get over there and quit hiding under Pierce’s coat-tail.”

Unable to argue, Rook merely replied with a rushed ‘ye ma’am,’ and closed the call. “How did she,” he began to ask himself before deciding it was best to focus on more important things. With a conscious effort he reached inside and quieted his mind, calling up a slumbering reserve of power he rarely used. It was the birthright of his race, a harmonious bond between the mind and the soul that fed them, nourished them. And while he had never refined the gifts he had been taught as a child, he still found them waiting for him.

As he touched on the small measure of psionic power he concentrated on his immediate need for haste and shaped it with his desire. It was a simple enough task for him, but he was long out of practice. He had only ever been taught how to shape the power for little things; to replenish him like a night’s rest might, to sustain him for a period without food or water or to even lessen pain to a degree. Quickening his step wasn’t all too difficult but as he marked his feet feeling lighter he reminded himself that it might be prudent to practice more often.

Rook raced out the door as swiftly as his sprinting feet could carry him and rushed his way towards Sundown Sanctuary. Luckily it wasn’t an overly long run as he covered the handful of streets between quickly. Even with calling on his wellspring of willpower, Rook found his stamina almost spent as he slowed and reminded himself to slow his breathing. He was definitely going to have to spend a little more time on staying in shape.

Slowly he drew his sidearm and approached the doorway to investigate the situation. The Mayor’s assistant stood at one end of the lobby holding a small device of some kind, while Marshall was a few steps away wielding a pair of blades. Packages placed about the room and connected by series of wires instantly alarmed the dutiful deputy.

“Nobody move!” Rook commanded as he trained his gun between the two. “Aren’t you supposed to tell us to freeze or something,” Marshall quipped back. But then the joke gave him an idea. “That’s it,” he thought to himself suddenly and grabbed a grenade from his pack.

“Freeze you fire bombing freak,” Marshall roared as he seized on the distraction provided by Deputy Rook’s appearance. He triggered the device with a quick press of his thumb and hurled it at the lethal lady. With her attention turned towards Rook, Boom-Boom didn’t have time to react as the grenade landed at her feet. It exploded in a cascade of compressed liquid nitrogen turning the very air about her into a mist of blue-white. In a matter of seconds a prison of ice had formed to cover her, coating her in a cold that refused to allow her to move.

“Would you look at that? She listened actually listened to me,” Marshall remarked as he regarded his handiwork. “I do suppose it is for the best that I removed that secondary charge from the grenade though. Otherwise we’d be looking at a shattered secretary.” Rook kept his gun aimed at the immobile assistant as he approached for answers.

“What do you mean,” he asked curiously. “Well,” Marshall explained as he gestured towards the ice-slick ground. “Those grenades were originally intended to clear a room – they quick freeze like that but a secondary charge that makes them nasty. The secondary is what sends a swarm of metallic balls in every direction to shatter everything before it can thaw. Trust me; you don’t ever want to see what that kind of thing can do to somebody.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rook admitted, a slight shudder visible. “I would rather not have seen that, thanks. So what do we do now, we still have all these bombs in place and she isn’t going to stay frozen forever I’d wager. You have a plan to handle this?”

“Nope,” Marshall exclaimed before falling silent for a minute. When finally he spoke once more it was in the measured and level tones of someone trying to restrain others from panicking. “Just kind of making this up as I go, but don’t worry; we have the valiant Deputy of Redemption here to help handle this hazardous situation. I am sure as the only official representative acting on behalf of this fair town he has everything well in control. And since I am just a simple stranger in these parts I will just defer to his professional opinion on the matter.

Well – Deputy Rook; what is your assessment of this emergency?” Rook had been expecting some kind of brilliant solution or insight from this gun slinging hero. Instead, what he got was some witty banter and the passed reins of responsibility. “Cute, real cute Mr. Lawson,” Rook pointed out sarcastically.

“Please tell me you at least have some idea as to how to defuse a bomb or how much time we have before little miss demolition here is going to find her fingers unfrozen enough to blast us all to oblivion.” As Rook glanced around him started to take note of explosives placed carefully around doors and windows – clearly she had set traps that they might set off if they tried to gain access to the upper levels where the residents lived.

“We are going to have to do something, Mister, and since you elected to play at hero then you are going to have to fill those shoes.” Marshall couldn’t resist a little grin despite himself as he listened to the Deputy who only a short time before seemed so defeated and unsure of himself. Now he seemed downright aflame with conviction and dedicated to his duty.

“Just trying to ease the tension,” Marshall said. “Not enough time to sort out how she’s wired this whole mess to blow, but we should have enough time before she starts to melt too much to clear a main door at least. The way I figure it, we’ll be lucky to disarm any more than that and still manage to get anyone out safely.”

“And you have done this before, right,” Rook hesitantly asked as Marshall moved towards the biggest set of doors. “Yeah, sure,” he answered back over his shoulder confidently. “I know the basics; it isn’t the sort of thing you easily forget.” Rook prayed this was just another one of his attempts at being funny. Otherwise, they were in real trouble.

Gauntlet - Episode 17.

Episode 17 – She’s going to Blow

Patience had never been Miss Velix’s strong suit; she often told herself that it was her dangerously short fused temper, not her fondness for explosives that earned her the infamous nickname. But either way, for her it was a mark of pride to hear people whisper about her out of fear. It was good to be taken seriously she thought, no matter the reasons. She terribly hated all this waiting though.

The urge to walk away and trigger the detonator for all the wired charges clinging around her to the building was terribly tempting. Even if her primary objective had been to clearly deal with this drifting do-good. What kind of loony loser was this guy anyways she thought to herself as she double-checked a series of sensors strategically placed near some windows. She was determined to catch this self-appointed champion by surprise when he tried to out fox her.

The sound of booted feet lightly treading upon the dirt outside gently raised an alarm at the back of her mind. While her mind began to ask the subconscious question of what it could be, her hands were already reaching down to grip brutal batons. The weight of them in her grasp sent a surge of sweet adrenaline awake inside her that she welcomed as a relief from the waiting.

“Knock, knock,” the stranger spoke from behind her, just outside the open doorway. “Somebody call for pest control?” Boom-Boom turned around, already eager to bash the wise-cracks right from this man’s brains. As he entered through the doorways she noticed a soft smile still in place upon his face and not a single weapon in his hand. This was unbelievable, had he really just walked right in here without even drawing a weapon? Oh, she was really going to enjoy this!

“You have been meddling, Mr. Man,” Boom-Boom said menacingly. “I’m here to educate you about the error of your actions. It’s nothing personal, just business – you understand.”

How typical, Marshall thought to himself; it’s never just business to these types, it is always personal. Their reputation was almost more important to them than breathing and any perceived threat couldn’t be tolerated. Already he had challenged the criminal control of Redemption, so obviously he was expected to simply be about to be ‘dealt with.’ It was still quite humorous to him that this lethal lady didn’t at least seem concerned about the potential of being unable to beat him. But then again as he scanned the room he had to admit that with a building wired to blow she did have a strong hand to play.

“Apologies, never been much good at minding my own business; I guess you might say it isn’t one of my most redeeming qualities.” This girl was good though, Marshall decided, while he engaged in witty banter he studied her body language. She had managed to keep her face expressionless – an empty mask that didn’t seem to register any response to his remark. Even her hands, hands that held barbaric bars well suited to breaking bones denied his attempts to deduce how she might react.

It was her feet and hips that betrayed her though. Always is something, and what they told him was she was itching to rush him. Her heels rocked rhythmically up and down as she kept shifting her stance. A slight cock to her waist favored her left that gave him the hinted clue she might lead off with that particular side. And her impulsive fidgeting was growing more frantic by the second, he was about to run out of time to think about his options.

Acting on his own instincts, the sound of drawn steel sung on the air as he drew forth weapons of his own. His conscience counseled him about the inherent danger in a misplaced shot in a room full of combustible components. Quickly though, Marshall told the part of his mind that still demanded for time to think to kindly silence itself. In a flash he found a surprisingly nimble foe flying at him with a blurring barrage of blows aimed his way.

While one sinister strike swung for his skull, its sibling angled its way towards his ribs. Only raw reflex resisted both as they rang against the robust backside of his blades. It was close-range chaos as the two moved back and forth in a deadly dance of exchanged attacks. Both combatants struggled against the other looking for some measure of edge or exploitable opening.

When it came, Marshall made full use of the opportunity. The brutal belle brought both her clubs crashing down simultaneously seeking his shoulders. In a desperate thrust, Marshall drove his Claw Breakers straight up and inside to parry the pair. As they grated against the potential producers of pain he jerked up with his thrown momentum to bring his knee into range and rode it right into her soft middle.

The maverick maneuver managed to produce a groan as Boom-Boom crumpled backwards in reluctant retreat. He had hurt her; somehow this man had actually caused her pain. It was simply unacceptable to Boom-Boom, nobody had ever done that and she wasn’t about to allow him another chance to do so again. Or be around to speak on the matter.

“Alright, hero, while I can’t say it’s been a blast – it sure is about to be!” With a ragged gasp she produced a small silver tab from her pocket, her thumb wavering just above a lone button. “Time to say your goodbyes,” Boom-Boom spat as a sadistic grin spread over her face. “Because to the people here in Redemption you are about to be nothing but just another nameless face for them to forget who was only passing through.”

Observations of a Patient Patient.

Yesterday morning my wife and I got up and drove into town to wait in line for medical help. You see the Department of Defense has established a program whereby various military units can engage in "Innovative Readiness Training" by performing medical clinics in communities. Now, what this amounts to is a rather unique experience for all involved parties. Civilians who might otherwise not have access to dental, vision, or even basic medical care can come and be seen for zero cost to themselves, and even be provided with things like glasses or medication. In exchange these troops get the real world experience of grueling day-long work to hone their procedures and the chance to discover various potential issues to better prepare them for future situations.

All around it is a beneficial thing for everyone. And, I for one cannot thank them enough for the tireless and dutiful effort each and everyone of them give. I witnessed a ceaseless giving spirit and boundless kindness in every single serviceman and servicewoman yesterday. They dealt with shortages, belligerent patients, late equipment(some even managed to get broken after arriving) all manner of trying difficulties. These were folks from all over the country, most had never even been to this area and yet they all were smiling and oozing compassion. Not once did I ever see a single fatigue-clad figure's face refusing to smile or show their bursting enthusiasm for their task.

Trust me, I have a unique perspective on the matter. My wife and I arrived at about 7:30 A.M. to get in line and were among the first 65-75 or so people to go in when the doors opened around 9:30. By the time we checked in the waiting area for Dental was already full so I opted to go wait for vision with my wife. Only then we discovered, oops, the vision gear was still en-route! Simply happy to be able to get any help at all my wife did her medical screening and then discovered we could get a special pass to return the next day for vision so I was told to that I could go on to dental.

But see, they had already filled up for the day. So I naturally figured that was that and I'd have to come back - it is first come, first serve after all. However much to my surprise I was told 'one more won't hurt, you'll probably be the last one seen anyway.' And honestly, I was. I waited patiently for about 15 hours total to finally have a military dentist extract a tooth. The whole experience wasn't anything overly fancy or complicated to be blunt. They took my vitals, did a quick x-ray and then inspected everything before numbing me up a little and - yank goes the sucker.

Yeah, I spent an entire day of waiting in a building with absolute strangers whom some of which were anything but patient or grateful. But at the end of the day I got the help I needed; no more and no less. It was worth every discomfort and I have nothing but respect for each and every soldier there. I honestly would like nothing more than to go back just to thank them, to shake their hands and tell them how much they mean to me. They will no doubt be busy and exhausted in the days to come, but then they will be also better prepared for anything that awaits them.

God bless them all, they are saints in the guise of soldiers. And I salute them for their selfless service.

For more information you can watch a short video here:

Innovative Readiness Training - Health Clinics in the Delta Region

The IRT Website can be found here:

http://irt.defense.gov/index.html  

And a local news story covered the morning opening that can be found here:

Military, medical professionals offer free health services to local community 

I cannot thank these men and women enough for all they have done and continue to do. And I can only hope that each person seen is as patient of a patient as we were. They deserve our respect, and our gratitude.

Gauntlet - Episode 16.

Episode 16 – An Explosive Emergency

“This should do nicely,” Boom-Boom remarked as she surveyed the building around her. It was an old pioneer shelter erected back in the town’s earlier days for settlers before they struck out to establish homes of their own. Sturdy tetrasteel beams ran throughout the structure providing it more than enough strength to weather the ravages of time. But where time’s heeled step had failed to falter the firm foundation, Boom-Boom was certain she could succeed.

Her heart soared with the rushing thrill of her work as she threw herself into placing several charges about the building’s support beams. With each wired connection she rode the rising wave of glee until the temptation to torment her target grew to be too much. Surrendering to her sadistic side she reached into her satchel of supplies and rummaged about only to withdraw a shinning oval of polished chrome.

Responding to her touch the device registered her unique signature and sparked to life to displaying its holographic interface. A short series of gestures with her thumb and index finger navigated her way through the shimmering screen to call up the precise information she desired. “Active transmission, full security encryption one way broadcast,” Boom-Boom verbally commanded the diminutive device.

The words ‘Connection received’ floated in the air like threads of gossamer and Boom-Boom relished the thought of someone on the receiving end answering the curious call. “Unless you want to see Sundown Sanctuary turned into a collection of kindling and ashes come there straight away. Better hurry, if even a single soul tries to leave or you make me wait too long and I will not hesitate to blow this building to bits. Happy hunting, hero,” she challenged and then closed the connection with a wave of her hand.

Feeling quite pleased with herself Boom-Boom allowed herself a brief moment to imagine being on the other end of her call. She tried to picture herself answering the incoming transmission from some unknown source only to hear a distorted digital voice. Surely an endless series of puzzling thoughts must be pouring forth to harass this self-styled hero. By now Boom-Boom was certain someone was worrying over the fate of strangers and wrestling with what to do to save them.

As she returned to her preparations she started to wonder at just how this drifting do-gooder would try to sneak past her to save everyone. It was the only logical response she could fathom anyone would risk. Perhaps he would try to make use of the rooftop to rescue them, or scale his way up an exterior wall. No matter what he tried she would be ready she reminded herself. She had the detonator for her devices of demolition, and just for fun she always brought with her some bash-batons. Just the thought of blowing the place or breaking some bones made her horribly happy. She couldn’t wait to see which way things worked out; with any luck maybe she would get the chance for both.

♦♦♦

“Well, I don’t know who that was and frankly I don’t give a DuskHound’s hide who it is – there are some good folks who call Sundown Sanctuary home,” Grandma Grael exclaimed. “There isn’t a question about it; you’re going to have to do something. You best get over there and handle the situation, before somebody gets hurt. I hope you have a plan, Mr. Hero.”

Marshall snatched up a handful of small things and slid them into his pockets before considering any other gear. What he needed was some options this time, but his eyes kept going back to some of his grenades. It defied every sound strategy known to him to go marching into a situation that involved explosives while packing even more. Odds were all he would manage to accomplish that way was making matters worse or setting things off his self.

But he wanted options and by his own figuring those would definitely fit in the optional category. So he grabbed up a pack, shoved an assorted few inside and secured it to some clips along his lower back. Satisfied he was as prepared as he might ever be without wasting even more time he decided to share his brilliant plan with Grandma Grael.

“If those folks fates are resting squarely on my shoulders then I don’t see how I can do anything but give this person exactly what they want; me.” Grandma regarded Marshall carefully for a moment before shaking her head with disapproval. “That is a terrible plan, horrible in fact – are you just to walk right in there and say here I am,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Actually,” Marshall added as he tried to resist a quick chuckle. “I thought I would just knock and ask ever so nicely what they needed.” The bit of humor immediately brought a warm laugh out of Grandma. “I like it,” she admitted, “good luck.”