Riga Timed

 

 

 

 

Riga Timed

Riga was inside a grey pipe. The pipe was above a road and footpath in Madrid. She climbed inside the pipe via a service hatch at midnight. There was nobody about midweek. She dressed in black. Ankle boots, combat trouser, jumper, jacket and wool hat. Plus gloves. The hatch was hard to open but she used WD40 and spanners. It was heavy and cumbersome so she took her time. It opened upwards. She lifted it up and slithered inside. Upon lowering it she left the fasteners unconnected. An observer wouldn't suspect then. The pipe was five feet in diameter. The height of Riga! She ducked a little bit as the upper surface was greasy. The pipe was used for oil. At the moment it was empty except for a small amount in the bottom. Riga walked thirty yards to where the pipe was above the footpath. It crossed the road. From inside her shoulder bag she took a time bomb. This was wrapped in water proof tape. A small green digital dial faintly illuminated. Riga carefully programmed the bomb and saved it. This was set to detonate in the future. Not just at any time. She knew when a certain individual would be passing. The bomb would explode wrecking part of the pipe and the passing person. Even if oil started to flow the bomb would work. Riga placed the bomb on the side of the pipe. It was held onto the metal side by strong magnets. The battery life was months. Four kilos of plastic explosive would do the job. The target would die. The target had done several bad deeds that were hindering the world. For this he was a target. His dastardly deeds would cease. The world would be partly safer. Little Riga doing another operative job. She left after planting the bomb. She had never been here...

***

Riga Soldier Art

Riga Soldier Art

Riga was a soldier of art. She was employed to guard the National Museum in Santiago. It was a splendid museum. There were six big halls. Each was as big as a football field. Different themes occupied each one. For example the first one was dedicated to humanity. And the fourth was for the Universe and cosmos. Riga patrolled the entire site. She carried a carbine and pistol. Her equipment included a whistle, a torch, water, plastic cuffs, a radio and discreet Kevlar body armour. The body armour was small and Riga shaped. There two bulges in the front for her boobs. The usual concerns she dealt with was unruly college students. A quiet word always made them behave. If a terrorist attacked the museum then Riga was ready. The small ones were always bad tempered. And Riga was small. She was also an excellent critical thinker. This was good in her job. Knowing the layout of the buildings in her heads. The correct tactical decisions had to be made. Especially if peoples lives were involved. There had been no incidents yet but complacency had no place here. Twice a year the museum held an exercise with the police and army. This was how to respond to any terror threat. The museum represented Chile and any attack was an attack on the state. Museums were considered soft targets. This is why Riga was employed. Her 7.62mm carbine would be used if need be. Riga took her job seriously. If any Communist or Muslim rebel tried to make mischief Riga would be ready. Her bad moods would be overruled by her critical thinking. Small but terrible. Just like the bullets in her gun!

***

Varied Ways by Frank Quartz

  https://www.xinxii.com/fiction-literature-1/thriller-663?product_id=532124

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1823570 

 

Varied Ways

by Frank Quartz

 A book of writing on Frank’s life and more. Frank Quartz. A man from Europe. He loves Amy. He was a soldier. He has lived in many European countries. Just now he works in a bar in Portugal. He was once a soldier and Special Forces operative. He served in Venezuela. That was a war that never happened. It touched him deeply. PTSD hurts him and Amy. Yet Frank has no regrets and would do it all again. Read his story here in the poems and short stories. Are you like Frank?

Understanding

 

 

 

 

Understanding

Frank knew that both he and Amy were type cast in their roles. He was the wounded soldier with PTSD and she was the understanding but struggling girlfriend/ex girlfriend. She really tried her best to support him and be there. By being there she endured her own Hell. That of hearing his stories, feelings and experiences. He was reliving and re-acting them. Amy had never seen a man cry before. A powerful strong muscular one like Frank. She knew he was proud of his service but fought strong demons. The price of what he'd done in the jungles of Venezuela. She wondered how he would be if he never went there? Would they still be together or would some mundane issue ruin their relationship? He wasn’t one for cheating or abusing women. He was quiet and thoughtful. His sensitivity was what added to his troubles. He dwelled on things. She taught him this wasn't a good way. He needed to understand and move on after processing all the events. Frank had seen a specialist several times. Amy had been there. They were raw meetings. It all came out. More than he told her. Afterwards he was calm like he was free. But it came back in cycles. Different things setting it off. In time this pushed Amy away. She put up walls to protect her own sanity and became distant. Then she silently left one day. Frank still messaged her but rarely got a reply. Like being in the jungles he was alone again. His service pistol was on the small bedside table. It was loaded. Always there always ready. Like he was. Frank the soldier. In his small rented room near the bar. He had to go to work. Not think about the killing or death.

***

Riga Finally Begins

 

 

Riga Finally Begins

"Get inside the fucking transport!" the call went out to her. Her was a small shapely female. Noticeable even in her lose combat uniform trousers and jacket with helmet and boots. The man said it again, louder.

 

The transport sat there on the hard sandy ground, engines spooling over. A whistling sound like an odd wind. She looked around and at the speaker. Her eyes were wide and elsewhere. Then she focused on the man before her. She took in his face and nodded. At this time things changed inside the gal. What happened inside the man? She turned and walked away. It was obvious they were no longer together. Yet were before.

 

She adjusted her rifle strap and entered the transporter as the armoured door opened. It closed with a slam. The engines changed pitch and the craft lifted off in a cloud of dust. The man shielded his eyes and watched the craft till it was out of site. Then he shouldered his rifle and returned to his vehicle, a small but bulky hover type thing. He started on the third attempt and zipped off over the flat desert. He kept the speed just below maximum. His face showed no expression. It was good she was gone. After all this time and problems. Onto the next thing.

 

Riga called the man arsehole and many insulting names in her mind. He was expendable like he thought she was. She had gotten what she wanted. The information would change the future of the galaxy. It was just a matter of applying it. What a stupid fool he was. He would soon learn. She sat back and listen to the drone of the engines. Soon she fell asleep…

***