To have called Davie Cook average would a complement. Most people saw him as a light weight with his only true potential being the ability to fill a position until someone more dynamic or at least useful could be found. It was precisely in that capacity that the company kept him on, and after sixteen years they were finding it difficult to justify keeping him. Certainly, new hires would be a cheaper way to get Davie’s menial functions completed.
It was a frosty February morning when Cook arrived at the mail room in the basement of the corporate headquarters. It was nine a.m. sharp and most employees were just settling into their desks. Davie was about to begin his rounds of emptying “out baskets” on the upper floors in order to have the out-going post franked and ready for the early collection at 10:15, when four masked gunmen burst into the lobby and took out the security guard and two receptionists.
The intruders quickly secured the front doors with a bicycle chain and took the security pass from the body of the guard. They then locked the surviving receptionist into a closet and headed upstairs. One of the masked men headed to the IT room and quickly disabled the company’s main servers. The others burst onto the office floors and ordered everyone to throw their phones into a pile before herding them into conference rooms.
Davie hearing the shots crept up the access stairway to find the dead security man and the two severely wounded receptionists. He administered some medical care that he had learned during his brief stint as the company first aider, and then returned to the basement where he retrieved a bolt cutter from a utility closet he had used while on the maintenance team. He then returned to the lobby and cutting the lock from the doors he dragged the two injured employees to safety, before getting a passer by to call the authorities. He then returned to the building and freed the remaining receptionist who ran to safety outdoors.
Davie then went to the back up CCTV monitor he knew of from his time as a company night watchmen, and using his mobile phone contacted the police himself and gave a detailed description of the situation, and clear instructions of the access points to the building, and little known avenues of approach he had learned as a janitor, and health and safety monitor for the firm.
It did not take long for the SWAT team to secure the premises and free the hostages with the “light weight’s” aid.
Most of kids just referred to her as red hair girl. She was a bit of loner, and her accent and striking locks didn’t help the impression of her otherness. Her real name was Ingrid, and her mother had come to the city on a one year exchange at the university.
Ingrid knew nothing about softball, and she even seemed a little unsure of the “rules” for playing tag. It wasn’t until the second semester that the red headed girl became the “red headed wonder.” Miss Murphy had taken the class out for their physical education lesson, and as was the usual practice, Ingrid was the last one picked when they were making teams.
Mandy Jeffreys, the “captain,” told Ingrid to stay in defence near the goal, where she “wouldn’t cause any trouble.” Then it happened, the ball came towards Ingrid, and everyone on her team shouted at her to “just kick it.” That seemed a silly instruction to Ingrid so she took control of the ball and out-manoeuvring three opponents she raced the length of the field to shoot to the far corner of the net, catching the goalie totally off guard.
It seems they play soccer in Ingrid’s native Germany.
Carl and Linda had followed the instructions precisely, and sure enough the blossom was just where the instructions said. Now it was just a matter of getting back to the checkpoint before the time ran out on the scavenger hunt.
“Fifteen minutes,” Carl warned.
“Don’t get too far ahead, the rules say we need to arrive together,” Linda reminded him.
“Then hurry, Sweetie. Fourteen and half minutes and a hundred thousand is ours.”
“I’m doing my best,” she said as he tugged her along.
Little did they know that the production company had another couple of surprises for them before they could get back to the checkpoint.
Tom Hanks said, “Stupid is as stupid does,” and it was stupid indeed.
“What?” you might ask.
Well telling your sergeant that he yells too much is one of those ultimate stupid acts. But stupid does help us learn as well, and I am certain I will have a lot to reflect on after I finish cleaning every toilet in the Third Marine Division.
“Whatever you do, don’t drink it. It is a lotion not a potion. It will make whatever it is put onto invisible, but it wont work on cloth. So, be careful, as if you get wet it can wash off and leave you exposed in more ways than one,” the merchant warned.
“Will it work on armour?” Helio asked.
“Anything except cloth, so metal is fine. I did have a customer complain once that after they stabbed a Goblin, the creatures could see the end of their sword blade where the blood had washed off the lotion.”
“So why this instead of a potion, or a cloak?” Helio queried.
“The decision is yours of course, but the lotion is 6 silver coins, the potion 6 gold, and the cloak 60 gold.”
“May I have three lotions then?” Helio said counting out the coins.
“Excellent choice,” the merchant said with a smile.
The descent wasn’t going to be easy, but then again no one ever said the job was going to be either. Tom prided himself as a mountaineer, and he was over the moon when he was accepted onto the Mountain Rescue team. It wasn’t that the job wasn’t without its risks, he had expected that. What frustrated him was the sheer stupidity of some he rescued, not the sheerness of the cliffs. It was usually hikers that overestimated their abilities and got them stuck mid way up a face. Today was no different as he went to aid a couple of “adventurers” wearing shorts and trainers and not equipped with boots and ropes.
It was a gargantuan task, but if the settlement was to be built, then the river would need to be dammed first.
The engineer observed the speed of the river’s flow and drew in a deep breath. Of course, he had done projects of this sort before, but none on this scale. After doing some mental calculations, he dropped a piece of wood into the flow to check the accuracy of his conclusions and to see if there were any hidden eddies that had avoided his attention.
Satisfied with the results, the beaver set to work.
He was in Liege; or was it Rotterdam? Hell, I don’t even know what country I’m in any more, he mused. Adam Golding had spent the last three months shuttling around Europe for the WHO. It was an endless stream of visits with local health officials, and hospital administrators. Frankly, it was all becoming a blur.
He was tired and the day hadn’t even really started yet. He glanced at his itinerary, and then at his watch. Okay, this is Rotterdam, he mused. Three hours till I meet with the committee. The sooner we get the vaccinations done, the better. I need a rest.
He jumped into the shower, and then dressed. A quick breakfast?” he thought. No, just coffee, he decided and flicked on the kettle in his room. Sometimes I wish I had become a vet like Dad, he thought reflectively, then shook his head at the thought. No, at least I’m making a difference, he concluded. I hope.