Weary from a day constant flying, bringing food to her young chicks a small gray pigeon settled on her nest for the night. High above the city of Omega Prime on the roof of the Turner Office tower she was sure her brood would be safe until they could fend for themselves.
While she slept the roof access door opened and a figure, dressed in night camouflage quietly crossed the distance to the edge facing the city administration building caring a long box. With practiced precision the figure opened and removed the antique rifle and tripod. Setting it up to target the entrance across the street he attached a small camera and remote triggering device. After inserting a small clip of five 50 caliber rounds, he removed the last item, a gray screen to surround the rifle except for the muzzle.
The pigeon looked up at the soft click of the door as the figure left the roof. Seeing no one she tucked her head back under her wing and went back to sleep.
In the morning, as the hover cars started to arrive, disgorging their cargo of official men and women, intent on find Justice, pigeon roused from her sleep and stretched her wings. Off again on another day of hunting food for her chicks.
As the parade of people climbed the small stair case to the Administration building a small whine could be heard coming from the tripod as it searched for its target.
Finally Admiral Montgomery and Cleveland Powers emerged from a hover car, escorted by clerks and assistants on either side. Suddenly Montgomery felt a hot pulse of air next to his ear, at the same instant the clerk in front of him screamed in pain, reaching for his leg. Then the sound hit them, a popping sound they could not recognize. Montgomery jerked to the left an the stair case where his foot had been exploded, chips of stone flying around them and then the popping noise again.
“What the ….” Was all Montgomery could say before the assistant to his side screamed, falling to the stairs, blood soaking her blouse at the shoulder.
Now the crowd was in a panic, racing for the doors. Above them the pigeon bringing her first morsels of food for the day swooped right in front of the muzzled of the rifle as the fourth shot rang out. She disappeared into a cloud of feathers and blood. The debris, so close to the muzzle, knocks it a few degrees to the side as the fifth and final shot rang out.
In the administration building pandemonium had broken loose as Montgomery and his staff were rushed to a secure office.
“What the hell is going on!” the Admiral roared.
“It appears to be an attempt on your life Sir.” An assistant said panting.
“Oh? You think?!.. What was it? That was no phaser.”
“I don’t know Sir.”
“Get Viceroy and Branson in here, RIGHT NOW!”
In seconds the two top Omega officials were bursting into the room.
“My God Admiral, are you alright?” Branson asked.
“What kind of security are you running on this colony!”
An aide came up and whispered into Viceroy’s ear. He looked up to Montgomery. “The injured have been evacuated to the hospital. They report their injures are not life threating.”
“Thank god.” Branson whispered.
Montgomery, now so red they were afraid he would explode.
“Security Branson. Where was it.?”
“Sir I promise you, all standard measures have been taken.”
“Standard!” he came up and stood only inches from her. “Well obviously STANDARD was not enough!”
“Sir, I’m so sorry.”
Montgomery stood silent for a minute, the room waiting for the next out burst.
“I want Marcus Dinn in the room in the next fifteen minutes! Am I clear?”
Branson and Viceroy looked at each other in puzzlement. “Dinn? The lounge owner?”
“GET HIM!”
Fifteen minutes to the second Marcus was ushered into the crowded room. Upon seeing Montgomery he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
‘I hear you had some excitement this morning Admiral.”
“You could say that. These clowns nearly let me killed.”
Marcus smiled. “And what a shame that would have been.”
“You!” Montgomery said pointing. ‘You are now in charge of my security.”
“What!?” Branson said.
Marcus walked over to the Admiral and whispered in his ear. “And how do you know it wasn’t me to start with.?”
“Because if it was you, I’d be dead.”
Marcus stepped back not saying another word.
“Sir, I don’t’ understand.” Branson said.
“This man was the top in his field Branson. What he wants, he gets.”
“Really, Sir, I’m retired. You can’t make me do this.” Marcus said smugly.
“I can and you will. You read the fine print on your retirement agreement.”
Later Marcus stood on top of the Turner office building, two city aides behind him. Gently he lifted the gray screen from the rifle and tripod.
“What is it Sir.?’
“Old school” Marcus said. ‘Very, very old school”
Off to their right a loud chirping erupted from a pigeon nest. The young birds were on their own sooner than expected.
Off:
Marcus Dinn
Owner of RICKS
Vice Admiral Branson
Commodore Vincent Viceroy
Omega City Mayor
