The guard at Tilbury docks idly smoked a cigarette, looking at the mighty container port which serviced London. He waved the great truck past, exchanging idle words with the driver, before moving on to the next vehicle.
The big truck turned into the docks, towards a sealed-off compound. The gentleman at the gate turned and shouted for them to stop. A short burst from a machine-gun felled him. The truck rammed the gates of the compound. Men hurried down off the truck, gangsters all.
The gangsters shot down a number of uniformed guards, before a man with cutting gear stepped down. Behind him came the imposing figure of the Grey Tabby. in cloak and long coat.
"Get it open." He ordered the men. "And hurry."
The gangsters feverishly cut the doors open. Three shots felled two of them, but a burst of fire into the container ended that. The door open, the men stepped back.
Two nightmarish figures stepped out of the truck. In brown all-covering suits with gasmasks and eyepieces, they looked like some odd alien creatures.
They entered the container, picking up a number of dusty shells labelled in a foreign languaue. These were loaded on the truck and locked in a secure box.
Before the armed police teams arrived on the scene, the truck was long gone.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
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1 comment:
I don't know that could be much worse.
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