Andrew the Agent

 

It’s never a good time to be a spy. It’s always dangerous to a greater or lesser degree. Usually greater, as in this case. My mission required the elimination of a target in a foreign country and the securing of another individual for transport from said country. I accomplished the mission, but now we’re unable to get out of the country. The longer we stay the more likely we will be tracked down, discovered and caught. Who would have thought a pandemic would foil my mission?

When I left the US for Italy to intercept the Iranian scientist defector and kill his uncooperative partner, the chance of a pandemic locking down the world was only a whisper in the higher ranks of the government. It wasn’t enough to put my mission on hold. If we held off, we would have missed the opportunity to secure an essential key player in the international arms race. Javid held classified information in his head that the Iranian’s would not want leaked to the US. He was allowed to visit Italy for a conference, but it was only a window of twenty-six hours to work with.

I had to get him out, but at this point it was impossible.

Maximillian the Meticulous

 

Max heard the chime notifying him that his delivery had arrived in the box attached to his safe room. He had time. It would take the box a few minutes to run its decontamination program. Even though he was in a hurry to see what had arrived from his black-market contact, there was no rush. He would finish his toilet. He brushed his teeth and combed his short gray hair. He took the time to wash and polish his glasses and run a razor over his morning stubble. He slipped on his sweats and headed for the waiting package.

Each month Max paid an enormous amount to procure a package such as this. Sometimes the contents were worth the price and more… Sometimes he was gravely disappointed. He hoped this month would bring something worthwhile. He was expecting company and wanted to show it off.

Dan the Deliverer

 

I need a new hazmat suit. I went over mine last night with the approved sealer, but I just don’t trust it. I’ve asked for a new one for the past three weeks. No one seems to care. I’m not in a Level I delivery district. I’m not even in a Level II or III. I service a Level IV. I am fooling myself to think that I am high enough priority to get a new suit. Heck, I’d settle for a used one in better condition than mine.

As much as I’d like to procrastinate, I eventually slip on my suit and head to the supply depot for my load of daily deliveries. I’m lucky in some sense, because most of my Level IV deliveries are small. Residents of the Community Units don’t have a lot to spend.

I get my truck loaded up by 6:00 am and I’m at my first stop by 7:00 am. My Level IV district is on the outskirts of town.

Honey the Humble

It's been over a year since I posted to this blog. It used to be a weekly post for which I did not fail, but times change and so do people.

In my last post, November 2020, I explained that my father had a heart attack, but seemed to be recovering. I am so sorry to say, he didn't. He died November 11, 2020, leaving me and the family cat, Watson, in a very lonely and seemly forgotten state.

Things are a bit better now. We both have worked hard to adjust to our quiet home. The holidays were far better than last year, which seemed inexistent. 

I've had a difficult time getting motivated to write. I am a naturally sociable animal and need that input. The loss of dad, my compromised immune system due to my lungs, and the pandemic make socializing more than difficult. Without it, I find I have very little to interest me in putting fingers to keys and creating.

Star Trader Update .051

I apologize for not posting this past Saturday, but life got in the way of art. My 94 year old father, who lives with me, experienced a heart attack. He is recovering slowly, but it may be a while before I post to the blog again. I hope you will scan through the other stories I have here and find something to keep you busy until I return. 

Thank you so much for your readership. I love you all. 

Once dad and I have established a new routine I will be back with another great story either 

sci-fi, fantasy or paranormal.

Don't forget to check out my main website for free books and great series.

Theresa Snyder's Books

Now on with the conclusion of our story...

051.01


“I was one of the first to hear its call,” Mul’drak told us. “Tal’on was my father’s Great. When I was a youngling. I listened to his tale of Tal’on over and over again.”

“So, it was at least three generations between Tal’on’s capture and the Sollen sounding again?” Jake asked.

“Yes, and for your humankind, many, many more generation,” Mul’drak said. “You live such short lives.”

“When the call came five of us answered. We mistakenly thought five was enough,” the old dragon said and shrugged his shoulders making his wings rise in the process. “We found out later that the Prime passed on the story of the Sollen and its location through his family and political associates as Tal’on and my father had passed it on to us. In fact, the ruling of the Valdare had been retained in the Prime’s family line. When we arrived, we found the Valdare had developed into an advanced technological society with no pity for their own kind, much less ours.

Star Trader Update .050

050.01

“Tal’on could not stay away from Delevy,” Mul’drak said. He mantled his wings up over his head stretching them almost to the ceiling of the cave dome. He gave a big yawn, his large pink tongue rolling out its full length. The old dragon smiled wearily and shook his hand. “The young dragon’s bond was too strong. Over the next two years he ‘jumped’ to Delevy’s village often. The town grew to know him and though they did not understand his speech, they grew to enjoy the presence of the young dragon.”

“Delevy found she had extended family still living in the village,” Rudd’ard explained. “They and Tal’on helped her build a small home. They built a pole-barn nearby and Tal’on slept there, with Delevy at his side, on his visits during bad weather. But the Valdare’s world was changing. Even though their village was far away and they had kept to themselves, and hence out of the war between their people and the Sandcor, it eventually encroached on their world.”

Star Trader Update - .049

049.01

Tal’on paced impatiently in the courtyard. He had not been able to share the cell with Delevy in months. He had grown too much to make it through the door and down the stairs. The Valdare staked him in the courtyard when he was home and brought Delevy up to him in order to keep him pacified and quiet during the days he was free from fighting their war or recovering from injuries inflicted by the same.

The jailer, who had become a friend of sorts, was fetching Delevy. Tal’on and Graf’tal landed in the courtyard. The rest of the dragons took up residence on the spires and wall of the building built around the yard. They caught the jailer on his way to take Delevy and his other prisoners dinner. He still did not speak Tal’on’s language, but he understood the young dragon’s demand for his companion. He also noticed right away Tal’on no longer wore the collar which kept him in a submissive state. The jailer hustled down the stairs to release Delevy.

“Is you friend coming?” Graf’tal asked.