The Diplomat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about a hot-shot ex-military agent who is hired to protect the life of a U.S diplomat,and find the people out for his blood.

Submitted: May 30, 2014

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Submitted: May 30, 2014



It was a cold winter night. I was caught in a storm. I had to return back to Afghanistan in eight hours. A U.S diplomat was to arrive by then. I, a trained ex-military Master Sergeant was hired by Feds to be in charge of his security detail. The U.S diplomat had already, which was not unusual, received 4 to 5 threatening letters that had all been signed with the name Cpt. Jack Sparrow.
Now obviously it was a fake, but it’s also obvious that it’s from the some person – or group?

If only this rain would let up! Then, suddenly while walking towards the metro-station (Underground-metro’s), I heard my cell phone ring…

“Hello, it’s me…get into the next phone booth on your right.”
“Then I heard the call go dead. I was wondering who the caller was for a moment. But then I had some idea…”

Suddenly, *Shots fired*. I recognized the sound of a R93 Sniper at once. I ran for cover. Whoever the shooter was he/she was very good. Couple of shots missed me by inches. ”Aaaaagh!”
I screamed.

An amour-piercing bullet went right through my Kevlar. I don’t think it hit any vital organs, but it hurt like hell nonetheless. Then, a second later, a bullet hit my leg. I dropped to the floor. This wasn’t a bullet from a sniper rifle. A 9mm, a handgun most likely. Now obviously there was more than 1 shooter, because the sniper-user was far away…maybe on the roof of some building, otherwise there wouldn’t be a reason to use a R93 precision sniper. And the second shooter, using a 9mm was somewhere close by…hence using a handgun.

I knew that the only way I could escape – alive was to get in a car and drive to the metro, I had to reach the airport, and the metro train was the fastest way to get there, although it wasn’t a direct route and I would have to walk abit.

The only problem was that I was bleeding badly, so I needed to get to a hospital as soon as possible. But it was too risky…I would be asleep for a couple of hours due to the anesthetic and it’s possible that the shooters might find me while I’m asleep. Just then, I remembered…Louis Jones, one of the doctors in the military – also one of good friends, lives about 5-6 blocks away. Suddenly,

BANG! Another shot fired.
“What do you want with me?”
…No response…
I repeated, “What the hell do you want with me dammit?”
…No response again…

I was lying on the ground. It had been less than thirty seconds since I was lying there but it seemed like an eternity. Then, I thought I heard sirens, still bleeding…I fainted. That was the last thing I remember.

Next thing I know, I had woken up in a warehouse, or so I thought. I trained my eyes around my surroundings but to no avail. My surroundings were completely black, it was pitch dark. I tried to stand, and then I realized I was tied. I could try to scream for help, but I didn’t want to attract attention, the kidnappers might still be around. I checked for my cell, but I didn’t find it, they must have taken it.
Crawling around, I had gotten pricked by something. Using my fingers as eyes, I came to know that there was a nail sticking out of something. I kept rubbing the rope against the nail.
It took an eternity, but I finally managed to cut the rope that was binding my hands. Soon, I had gotten my legs free. Then, I started searching for an escape, by now my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I found some kind of a window but it was sealed shut. Suddenly, I realized that my bullet wounds were stitched and bandaged. But who could have done that?
I used my elbow to break the glass and climbed out. I wasn’t far from where I was, last I remember. It was cold, and I put my hands in my pocket – only to find a folded piece of paper.
Opening it, I read :

“Smith, if you interfere with our plans, I promise you, you will regret it. We have let you live for now, but I warn you to stay away. We will be watching you.”

“Woh!”, I exclaimed. So whoever these people are, they must be behind the plot to kill the U.S diplomat. So it was true after all.
I must get to Afghanistan before its too late.
I caught a train from the metro. It would take me atleast half an hour to reach the airport. I glanced at my watch, four hours more for the diplomat to arrive. I fell asleep. About twenty-eight minutes later, I had been woken up by a girl.

I got off the train and walked towards the airport. After a couple of minutes, I had reached the airport and bought an airplane ticket.
The airplane would depart in fifteen minutes. Looking at my watch, I saw that there were three hours left for the diplomat to arrive, and the plane to Afghanistan would take me about two hours.

Two hours later, I had landed in the Afghanistan International airport. I rented a Nissan-350Z and drove to a private airport where the diplomat would be arriving via helicopter.

No sooner then I had taken him to a safehouse, had the shooters opened fire on the house. I’m not sure how they found us, but there was no time to think about it. I called for backup. Then the guards and I deployed CS gas outside the house, leaving afew guards behind to protect the diplomat.

We were forced to ‘take care’ of the shooters – there was no other way, negotiating wasn’t an option, they just kept shooting.

After awhile, cops showed up and demanded that the shooters seize fire. Then, they fled.

We took off after them. They were heading towards a desert.
But, why on earth were they heading towards the desert? They’ll get trapped over there or they could run out of fuel, and I could bet that they had something planned.

While driving through the desert, we spotted their jeep parked in front of a tent. We got out of the jeep and prepared to enter the tent.

“Alright guys, lets end this. Jack you cover the back. Bruce, Steve
Come with me, we’re going in : 3…...2…...1. Move move
move!” , I said.

I screamed, “Drop it or I’ll drop you, do it now!”
Then I heard laughs. I saw somebody rising from under the table, then, I saw a gun beside his temple, and a man behind him.
Then, I spoke “Ah dammit. Men, stand down, they have hostages.”

Then, one of the shooters spoke up,
(He looked at me while speaking)
“Now, I believe we are going to drive away from here and you and your men are not to follow us, am I clear?”

“Yeah, you bet.” I mumbled, so much so that he repeated his question…
“I said, am I clear?”
“Yeah, you’re clear.”
“Good”, the shooter replied.

The terrorists-three of them walked outside with the hostages. Then they shot our jeep’s tires and drove away in their jeep.
I radioed for a pickup, which arrived after ten minutes. The terrorists headed north towards the airport and got a ten minute lead, they’ll be trying to flee the country…there’s too much heat on them. I told my men to call airport security and tell them to block all outgoing flights, we also told them about the terrorists, described them and told them that they might have hostages.

We arrived at the airport fifteen minutes later. I met with the head of security. He told me to my surprise that they had apprehended the terrorists and are holding them in their prison.

“Would you like to arrest them and escort them back to U.S, sir?”
“No”, I replied and continued, “but we’ll need to interrogate them right away.”
“Yes sir, go right through that door.”

My men and I questioned them for hours, revealing that they were indeed the people behind the plot to kill the diplomat. We believe that they wanted to kill him in order to withdraw U.S’ Sp. Task Force Team (Sp.T.F.T) from Afghanistan. If a diplomat from U.S
is killed on foreign soil, in this case Afghanistan, it would definitely result in the withdrawal of their support and could possibly result in some kind of war.
These terrorists are gunrunners and so they would benefit greatly by selling guns and amour to both sides.

“Oh!” says Bruce.
“Well, this case is wrapped up, lets book them and head back home boys.”

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