The Consequences of a Lead Migraine
Uploaded by ErAzAnGeL on Feb 04, 2002
The Consequences of a Lead Migraine
He looked as his watch, a drop of sweat dripping from his forehead, his heart beating 20 to the dozen. McNeill was scared as hell. It wasn’t his first mission for the LAPD SWAT team, but it was possibly one of the most scary. Set in a cramped house, with nothing but darkness all around (The LAPD don’t ‘negotiate’ with terrorists, they said) he crawled past another darkened room, his MP5 constantly raised in preparation for a gunfight. The fact that he felt ill didn’t help either, and McNeill tried to put it down as the flu that had been going round the precinct.
He checked his watch again. 3 minutes until the terrorists execute another hostage.
“Damn…” he muttered under his breath.
“Russian extremists, bunch of fools. Why can’t they just get JOBS!” McNeill angrily thought to himself. Frantically, he checked his watch again.
“Good,” he thought “30 seconds till rendezvous”
He rounded the corner and spotted the rest of his team. They were crouched around a locked door, with Agent Johanssen setting up plastic explosives on the door.
“Stand back, it’s gonna blow” Johanssen's voice crackled down the Comm system.
The soft hiss of the fuse got faster and faster, McNeill held his breath. Any second now…
And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. McNeill turned his head, only to hear the door blow open behind him. As he turned, he saw an ominous figure standing with a toothpick in between his teeth. The face, was…was almost skull like…
“Morning son, how’s you?” Death said cheerily
McNeill stood in silence. All kinds of random thoughts rushed into his head, but the first one was to run away. As he spun round to run, a small red light centred on his head. He looked up, only to hear the click and shut of the firing mechanism in the gun, and a silenced bullet escaping a barrel somewhere in the room. He closed his eyes tightly shut…
A sudden sensation of being caught in a gust of wind hit McNeill. He felt as though he was being thrust upward, toward the sky. He opened his eyes to see what was going on. He wished he hadn’t. Because were he was didn't make him too happy.
As he looked around, he realised he was in some kind of lift -a glass elevator to be precise- and was hurtling towards the sky at...