Christmas Rant #13 - Merry Crisis
Definition of Rant: (dialect British) a rousing good time.
(December 25th, 2018)
(A cloaked figure leans against the wall of a dark alley in a strange part of the world in a stranger part of town, watching a doorway across the street through gold-tinted glasses. He taps an earpiece to make contact with his comrades.)
Jesse: Are we sure this is the right game shop?
Jordan: (crackles through over the earpiece) Well, does it read “Game Shop” above the door?
Jesse: (squints) My cuneiform is rusty, but yes, it says “Game Shop.” ...Or “Fine Perfumes,” I don't know.
Jordan: Well the coordinates are pretty much bang on, so I think we're good to go.
Ethan: Alright! What's the plan?
Jesse: Plan? It's a bag and grab. We've done dozens of these. You're the wheelman. It does not require a “plan.”
Ethan: Vroom vroom! (continues making engine noises for the next few minutes as if for someone else’s entertainment)
Jordan: Just remember we want fast, but we also want to obey the laws of the road… except for the alleged limit.
Jesse: I think Ethan can handle the vehicle. Don’t be a backseat getaway driver.
Jordan: I just don't want us to get too far away before the explosions occur. An artist so rarely gets to enjoy his work.
Jesse: Explosives are not part of a bag and grab!
Jordan: I thought they were just implied.
Jesse: Why would you think that?
Jordan: This is a Riggs Op?
Jesse: …
Ethan: …
Jesse and Ethan: Fair enough.
Ethan: So how far away do we need to get?
Jordan: You can make a 10 second mile in that thing right?
Ethan: Yes.
Jordan: Umm… count down from…twelve. No, no… fifteen. We want to be safe.
Jesse: Cut it as close as you need to, safety is not paramount. The vehicle can handle a little heat.
(The radios go silent, except for what sounds like a keyboard being smashed repeatedly. Ethan seems to be making some odd noises, blowing raspberries, and clicking his tongue.)
Ethan: Hey, btw, when did you realize this op was even a possibility?
Jesse: About the time of the Royal Wedding… or the Royal Baby, I don’t remember which. It all came together pretty quickly after I made some contacts at the Winter Olympics.
Jordan: I won the luge!
Jesse: The Involuntary Luge.
Jordan: World record.
Ethan: Where was I?
Jesse: Getting ready for the World Cup.
Ethan: Oh yes. In Russia, World Cup watches you.
Jordan: Thanks for handling that by the way. I didn’t want to strain my Russian contacts for anything this year. They’re busy with… other things.
Jesse: Ahem.. (cough, cough). Anybody got eyes on the target?
Jordan: I’m just saying things were a little… tense this year. And yes, I think I have eyes on the target.
Jesse: Oh good! What's your position?
Jordan: Sort of a half crouch. Might switch to prone but the ground is pretty cold.
Jesse: (sharply taps his earpiece sending a feedback burst through to Jordan)
Jordan: Gack! Ah! How do you do that?!
Ethan: He means, are you ready, moron.
Jordan: How would you like a third nostril? Of course I'm ready.
Ethan: A third nostril might be useful with this sinus congestion I've got.
Jordan: You’re sure it’s a cold then?
Ethan: My nose weighs ten pounds.
Jordan: So nothing out of the ordinary. Jesse, he’s turning the corner up the street from you. Ethan, you should wear a filter mask on the drive back.
Ethan: Yea, probably.
Jesse: Jordan, you have a serious hangup on precautions today.
Jordan: I don’t want anything to go wrong.
Jesse: (flat tone) Why would you say that? Why would even say that? That’s as bad as “No turning back now.” Or, “This will be the best Christmas ever!”
Jordan: (emphatic) It’s important. We try. To exercise. A little bit of restraint. Just this once.
Jesse: (rolling his eyes, off the radio) Oh, my gosh. (back on the radio) Why?!
Jordan: Do I need to remind you this is Shepherd’s first op?!
(Ethan glances over his shoulder to the back of the Toyota 4Runner where sits, strapped snuggly into his armoured carrier, Shepherd Orion Riggs, one month and five days old wearing a tiny flak vest, and helmet with earphones. The baby watches a pair of monitors cued to local security cameras. Behind him, Zeke, similarly garbed, bangs on a keyboard, continuing to hack into the traffic grid.)
Ethan: Your dad forgot we brought you two.
Zeke: Dis issa computah! One, two, tree, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, sixteen, eighteen, eighteen, eighteen, twenty!
Ethan: You go, Zeke. Anything on the screens, Shepherd?
(Shepherd coos noncommittally.)
Ethan: We all have to start somewhere, Shepherd. Surveillance is vital.
Jesse: (defensive) I did not forget we brought the boys.
Jordan: Alright, Jesse, he’s almost at the door. As soon as you give confirmation of identity I’ll drop on him. Get ready to join me.
(A tall, broad, handsome man with golden hair and golden skin comes down the street, dressed to the nines in a fine woolen suit. As he comes to the doorway under surveillance, he stops, checks a small notebook in his hand, and nods to himself. He reaches up and knocks, just once, on the door.)
(As the man’s hand lowers, Jesse hisses into the radio.)
Jesse: Opportunity confirmed! Go, go, go!
(Beginning a burst of well-choreographed activity, Jordan drops from some unseen point above the man, landing on his shoulders and bringing him to the ground, shoving a black bag over his head. Jesse dashes across the street in a split second, cloak swirling and sparking with unusual energy. With one quick motion Jesse whips the cloak off his shoulders and covers the man, sending a shock of energy through his struggling frame. The man goes limp, just as the Toyota 4Runner screeches to a halt in the street, rear hatch springing open. Jordan snatches the notebook from the man’s limp hand and tosses it to Jesse, who flips it open.)
Jesse: Oh gosh, more cuneiform. It works without him though, let’s go.
(Jesse, followed by Jordan, dives into the back of the 4Runner and pulls the hatch shut.
Jesse: Floor it!
Jordan: Wait, wait! (quickly, but meticulously checks Zeke’s and Shepherd’s seat straps) Okay, we’re good! Let’s go! Zeke, hit it!
(Zeke pounds the keyboard as the 4Runner peels out.)
Zeke: I hit it!
(From a concealed compartment on top the 4Runner a dual harpoon launcher fires, stringing a line of festive garland across the street.)
Jordan: (face against the rear window) 3...2...1…
(The garland goes off like a thousand firecrackers, sending torrents of green and red flame into the air.)
Jordan: Merry Christmas to all...
Ethan: Oh, he knocks once! I get it now!
Jesse: ...And to all a good fight.
Definition of Rant: (dialect British) a rousing good time.
(December 25th, 2018)
(A cloaked figure leans against the wall of a dark alley in a strange part of the world in a stranger part of town, watching a doorway across the street through gold-tinted glasses. He taps an earpiece to make contact with his comrades.)
Jesse: Are we sure this is the right game shop?
Jordan: (crackles through over the earpiece) Well, does it read “Game Shop” above the door?
Jesse: (squints) My cuneiform is rusty, but yes, it says “Game Shop.” ...Or “Fine Perfumes,” I don't know.
Jordan: Well the coordinates are pretty much bang on, so I think we're good to go.
Ethan: Alright! What's the plan?
Jesse: Plan? It's a bag and grab. We've done dozens of these. You're the wheelman. It does not require a “plan.”
Ethan: Vroom vroom! (continues making engine noises for the next few minutes as if for someone else’s entertainment)
Jordan: Just remember we want fast, but we also want to obey the laws of the road… except for the alleged limit.
Jesse: I think Ethan can handle the vehicle. Don’t be a backseat getaway driver.
Jordan: I just don't want us to get too far away before the explosions occur. An artist so rarely gets to enjoy his work.
Jesse: Explosives are not part of a bag and grab!
Jordan: I thought they were just implied.
Jesse: Why would you think that?
Jordan: This is a Riggs Op?
Jesse: …
Ethan: …
Jesse and Ethan: Fair enough.
Ethan: So how far away do we need to get?
Jordan: You can make a 10 second mile in that thing right?
Ethan: Yes.
Jordan: Umm… count down from…twelve. No, no… fifteen. We want to be safe.
Jesse: Cut it as close as you need to, safety is not paramount. The vehicle can handle a little heat.
(The radios go silent, except for what sounds like a keyboard being smashed repeatedly. Ethan seems to be making some odd noises, blowing raspberries, and clicking his tongue.)
Ethan: Hey, btw, when did you realize this op was even a possibility?
Jesse: About the time of the Royal Wedding… or the Royal Baby, I don’t remember which. It all came together pretty quickly after I made some contacts at the Winter Olympics.
Jordan: I won the luge!
Jesse: The Involuntary Luge.
Jordan: World record.
Ethan: Where was I?
Jesse: Getting ready for the World Cup.
Ethan: Oh yes. In Russia, World Cup watches you.
Jordan: Thanks for handling that by the way. I didn’t want to strain my Russian contacts for anything this year. They’re busy with… other things.
Jesse: Ahem.. (cough, cough). Anybody got eyes on the target?
Jordan: I’m just saying things were a little… tense this year. And yes, I think I have eyes on the target.
Jesse: Oh good! What's your position?
Jordan: Sort of a half crouch. Might switch to prone but the ground is pretty cold.
Jesse: (sharply taps his earpiece sending a feedback burst through to Jordan)
Jordan: Gack! Ah! How do you do that?!
Ethan: He means, are you ready, moron.
Jordan: How would you like a third nostril? Of course I'm ready.
Ethan: A third nostril might be useful with this sinus congestion I've got.
Jordan: You’re sure it’s a cold then?
Ethan: My nose weighs ten pounds.
Jordan: So nothing out of the ordinary. Jesse, he’s turning the corner up the street from you. Ethan, you should wear a filter mask on the drive back.
Ethan: Yea, probably.
Jesse: Jordan, you have a serious hangup on precautions today.
Jordan: I don’t want anything to go wrong.
Jesse: (flat tone) Why would you say that? Why would even say that? That’s as bad as “No turning back now.” Or, “This will be the best Christmas ever!”
Jordan: (emphatic) It’s important. We try. To exercise. A little bit of restraint. Just this once.
Jesse: (rolling his eyes, off the radio) Oh, my gosh. (back on the radio) Why?!
Jordan: Do I need to remind you this is Shepherd’s first op?!
(Ethan glances over his shoulder to the back of the Toyota 4Runner where sits, strapped snuggly into his armoured carrier, Shepherd Orion Riggs, one month and five days old wearing a tiny flak vest, and helmet with earphones. The baby watches a pair of monitors cued to local security cameras. Behind him, Zeke, similarly garbed, bangs on a keyboard, continuing to hack into the traffic grid.)
Ethan: Your dad forgot we brought you two.
Zeke: Dis issa computah! One, two, tree, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, sixteen, eighteen, eighteen, eighteen, twenty!
Ethan: You go, Zeke. Anything on the screens, Shepherd?
(Shepherd coos noncommittally.)
Ethan: We all have to start somewhere, Shepherd. Surveillance is vital.
Jesse: (defensive) I did not forget we brought the boys.
Jordan: Alright, Jesse, he’s almost at the door. As soon as you give confirmation of identity I’ll drop on him. Get ready to join me.
(A tall, broad, handsome man with golden hair and golden skin comes down the street, dressed to the nines in a fine woolen suit. As he comes to the doorway under surveillance, he stops, checks a small notebook in his hand, and nods to himself. He reaches up and knocks, just once, on the door.)
(As the man’s hand lowers, Jesse hisses into the radio.)
Jesse: Opportunity confirmed! Go, go, go!
(Beginning a burst of well-choreographed activity, Jordan drops from some unseen point above the man, landing on his shoulders and bringing him to the ground, shoving a black bag over his head. Jesse dashes across the street in a split second, cloak swirling and sparking with unusual energy. With one quick motion Jesse whips the cloak off his shoulders and covers the man, sending a shock of energy through his struggling frame. The man goes limp, just as the Toyota 4Runner screeches to a halt in the street, rear hatch springing open. Jordan snatches the notebook from the man’s limp hand and tosses it to Jesse, who flips it open.)
Jesse: Oh gosh, more cuneiform. It works without him though, let’s go.
(Jesse, followed by Jordan, dives into the back of the 4Runner and pulls the hatch shut.
Jesse: Floor it!
Jordan: Wait, wait! (quickly, but meticulously checks Zeke’s and Shepherd’s seat straps) Okay, we’re good! Let’s go! Zeke, hit it!
(Zeke pounds the keyboard as the 4Runner peels out.)
Zeke: I hit it!
(From a concealed compartment on top the 4Runner a dual harpoon launcher fires, stringing a line of festive garland across the street.)
Jordan: (face against the rear window) 3...2...1…
(The garland goes off like a thousand firecrackers, sending torrents of green and red flame into the air.)
Jordan: Merry Christmas to all...
Ethan: Oh, he knocks once! I get it now!
Jesse: ...And to all a good fight.