| General Fiction posted January 16, 2019 | Chapters: |
...15 16 -17- 18... 
|
  |
Ben Baker awakens after having been knocked out.
A chapter in the book Baker's Dozen
Wake Up Call
by Bill Schott
CHARACTERS:
Ben Baker low-level White House worker forced to fight others as Presidential punishment
C.C. Connor President's Chief of Staff
Tim Bends Assistant to the Assistant Post Master General
Gregory Ira Joseph (GI Joe)-- Connor's adversary in Vietnam
An Do -- Mercenary
=======================================================
The story so far...
Ben Baker had to find and kill a dozen people in a secluded, government-operated, forest compound. He has survived and found an encampment where provisions are available to assist whoever gets to them first.
Tim Bends, one of those whom Baker must kill, had an horrific landing after parachuting from a helicopter and is barely alive.
A helicopter has crashed, which should soon be obvious to those who dispatched it.
Baker has killed all those whom he knew were in the compound with him (except Bends who should die from his wounds).
In FLASHBACKS, Connor's double agent status is seen as he, though a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, assists Vietcong interrogators. This is the beginning of the death sport that Ben Baker is involved in at present.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
End of the last present day chapter:
He fell back on his butt and looked for his other pistol. From the rear, someone grabbed the shaft sticking out of his back, and pulled it the rest of the way through. Then a fist smashed him at the base of his skull. Darkness.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A translucent blur slowly blossomed as Ben Baker regained consciousness. He tried to force his mind to comprehend faster and his vision to sharpen. The pain in his neck and his shoulder were becoming more noticeable as he began sensing his environment.
"Enjoy your nap?"
The question came from a fuzzy ghost in front of him. He half hoped it was Connor bringing him a prize for surviving. That would hopefully be presented as a 'Get out of execution free card', or other facsimile acknowledging he was done with this and able to leave.
He knew it wasn't Connor though. The voice sounded gravelly and timbres. Connor's voice reminded him of Skeletor; high pitched and penetrating.
He tried to form a question, but his mind resisted communicating until he received more input. His last memory was of his heart pounding as the woman rushing him with guns blazing caught a bunch of rounds from his pistol. That's when the lights went out.
"What's your name, killer?"
The voice from the amorphous form before him was either trying to test whether he knew his own name, or didn't actually know who he was.
"You have a list of names written on your arm."
This fact helped him focus on reality. He touched his forearm and tried to recall the names.
"That your kill list?"
Baker examined the question and his possible response. The right reply in this circumstance was hardly one that anyone could rehearse ahead of time. 'That your kill list?'
His vision was quickly coming around. The figure before him became a rough-looking older man. His stoic countenance projected a sense of intensity that wasn't apparent in his voice. Perhaps years of controlling the tensions around him with a measured tone had brought this level communicating style into play. The calm, firm tone of the voice belied the time and weather-worn form before him.
"Who are you?" asked Ben.
"My name's Joseph; G.I. Joseph."
Ben supressed a chuckle. He wasn't certain if the man was joking or not. Perhaps he was still asleep and dreaming being rescued by the iconic action figure. Worse yet, the man was serious, and off his nut.
"I know what you're thinking, son. Why couldn't you wake up to Barbie?"
"I guess I'm glad to wake up at all," said Ben.
"So what's your name?" asked the stranger.
Hesitating for a moment, he answered, "Robert Butcher."
Joseph looked at the recently revived man before him, then exhaled with a sound of a sigh, and a hint of a question.
"What names you got on your arm?"
Looking at his arm, he realized that he knew a few of the names, but not all.
Joseph waited a minute and asked, "You got my name on your arm -- Butcher?
Looking at the names, he saw 'GI Joe' printed second from the bottom.
"You don't need to say it, uh, Robert. I peeked at the list while you were napping."
"I don't know half these names. The men from the White House I knew, but only saw one up close to recognize him."
"Was that Angles?" he asked, getting a look of surprise from the survivor.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"So happens I got a list of all the poor slobs that's been sent here. It's pretty long. Connor's been doing this shit for thirty-some years."
"Thirty years! How does he get away with it? He's only been in the White House for two years."
"I'd tell you his biography if I had a couple days and a fifth of JD. We don't have that luxury though. Let's go over those names."
Joseph extracted a small memobook from his woodland issue camouflage jacket.
"I got Angles and Bends. That's kinda funny, if they wasn't both dead." said Joseph.
"I saw Angles. He must have fallen from a helicopter. He was dead. He had erupted on the ground. A real mess."
"Yeh, I found him. The wolves had found him first though. I also found Russell Pipes next to that downed chopper. Wolves had some sport with him as well."
"I knew there was a crash, but I didn't know what it was or anything. I've heard of Pipes though. I saw the wolves when they got to Angles. I just ran away as fast as I could."
"That would be prudent, for certain," said Joseph, with a slight smile on the left side of his face. "Orrin Breefs was there too. He was dead a half a dozen ways. Shot, fell, had a helicopter land on him, and, as the coopdee grass, wolves ate him. Nothing left but to have a boulder land on him."
They both chuckled, conservatively. The strange, gallows humor of the military seemed to allow it.
"I knew Breefs, and his husband, uh, Igor."
"His name was Ivan. Ivan Zaroff." said Joseph.
"Ivan was here too? "
"Tyler Bends is here. B.B. Bauxer -- and his wife as well."
"I saw Bends. Oh man! That guy has got to be dead by now. He looked like barfed up spare ribs."
"I haven't seen him. Probably under a bush somewhere collectin' ants. You managed to kill Bauxers' wife though."
"Was that the woman rushing me? I had no choice. I emptied the magazine on her."
"Well, you did alright with the others. Woody Post had his spine in his chest, Bauxers' skull was ventillated, and I'm guessing it's Zaroff blown to mulch out in the open field."
"I rigged the grenade bag to yank a pin if it were pulled out of the crate. It must have been him."
"Maybe. There was an empty LAW sitting next to Bauxers; he might have shot Zaroff."
"I've got more names on my arm."
"There were two guards I found near the maintenance road. They'd been killed in a fight, looks like. That your work?" asked Joseph.
"No. Who were they? Do you know?"
"Likely, a couple of Connor's flunkies. One was Sergeant Chase Bank."
"What!? Who was the other -- Capital Juan?"
"Willis Fargo."
"I've just got a G1 and G2 on my arm."
"Likely they were interchangeable. Whoever was in the barrell that day was expendable."
"That just leaves one. Number twelve -- Ben Baker."
"Don't you know that guy?" asked Joseph.
"Just a name on my arm."
"Who wrote those names on your arm?"
"I don't know.”
"How'd you get here? Jump out of a helicopter?"
"I don't remember. I just remember talking to Connor and then -- I was here."
"So you're Bob the Butcher."
"I'm Robert Butcher. I work at the -- "
"You're Ben Baker. He works at the White House. When you're here though, you're Bob the Butcher."
"Ben Baker is on my arm," Baker said, looking at the appendage, and the list on it, with a dull, open-mouth stare.
"You're Bobby Do, kid. The Butcher of Baghdad. And this ain't your first rodeo."
CHARACTERS:
Ben Baker low-level White House worker forced to fight others as Presidential punishment
C.C. Connor President's Chief of Staff
Tim Bends Assistant to the Assistant Post Master General
Gregory Ira Joseph (GI Joe)-- Connor's adversary in Vietnam
An Do -- Mercenary
=======================================================
The story so far...
Ben Baker had to find and kill a dozen people in a secluded, government-operated, forest compound. He has survived and found an encampment where provisions are available to assist whoever gets to them first.
Tim Bends, one of those whom Baker must kill, had an horrific landing after parachuting from a helicopter and is barely alive.
A helicopter has crashed, which should soon be obvious to those who dispatched it.
Baker has killed all those whom he knew were in the compound with him (except Bends who should die from his wounds).
In FLASHBACKS, Connor's double agent status is seen as he, though a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, assists Vietcong interrogators. This is the beginning of the death sport that Ben Baker is involved in at present.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
End of the last present day chapter:
He fell back on his butt and looked for his other pistol. From the rear, someone grabbed the shaft sticking out of his back, and pulled it the rest of the way through. Then a fist smashed him at the base of his skull. Darkness.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A translucent blur slowly blossomed as Ben Baker regained consciousness. He tried to force his mind to comprehend faster and his vision to sharpen. The pain in his neck and his shoulder were becoming more noticeable as he began sensing his environment.
"Enjoy your nap?"
The question came from a fuzzy ghost in front of him. He half hoped it was Connor bringing him a prize for surviving. That would hopefully be presented as a 'Get out of execution free card', or other facsimile acknowledging he was done with this and able to leave.
He knew it wasn't Connor though. The voice sounded gravelly and timbres. Connor's voice reminded him of Skeletor; high pitched and penetrating.
He tried to form a question, but his mind resisted communicating until he received more input. His last memory was of his heart pounding as the woman rushing him with guns blazing caught a bunch of rounds from his pistol. That's when the lights went out.
"What's your name, killer?"
The voice from the amorphous form before him was either trying to test whether he knew his own name, or didn't actually know who he was.
"You have a list of names written on your arm."
This fact helped him focus on reality. He touched his forearm and tried to recall the names.
"That your kill list?"
Baker examined the question and his possible response. The right reply in this circumstance was hardly one that anyone could rehearse ahead of time. 'That your kill list?'
His vision was quickly coming around. The figure before him became a rough-looking older man. His stoic countenance projected a sense of intensity that wasn't apparent in his voice. Perhaps years of controlling the tensions around him with a measured tone had brought this level communicating style into play. The calm, firm tone of the voice belied the time and weather-worn form before him.
"Who are you?" asked Ben.
"My name's Joseph; G.I. Joseph."
Ben supressed a chuckle. He wasn't certain if the man was joking or not. Perhaps he was still asleep and dreaming being rescued by the iconic action figure. Worse yet, the man was serious, and off his nut.
"I know what you're thinking, son. Why couldn't you wake up to Barbie?"
"I guess I'm glad to wake up at all," said Ben.
"So what's your name?" asked the stranger.
Hesitating for a moment, he answered, "Robert Butcher."
Ben Baker low-level White House worker forced to fight others as Presidential punishment
C.C. Connor President's Chief of Staff
Tim Bends Assistant to the Assistant Post Master General
Gregory Ira Joseph (GI Joe)-- Connor's adversary in Vietnam
An Do -- Mercenary
=======================================================
The story so far...
Ben Baker had to find and kill a dozen people in a secluded, government-operated, forest compound. He has survived and found an encampment where provisions are available to assist whoever gets to them first.
Tim Bends, one of those whom Baker must kill, had an horrific landing after parachuting from a helicopter and is barely alive.
A helicopter has crashed, which should soon be obvious to those who dispatched it.
Baker has killed all those whom he knew were in the compound with him (except Bends who should die from his wounds).
In FLASHBACKS, Connor's double agent status is seen as he, though a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, assists Vietcong interrogators. This is the beginning of the death sport that Ben Baker is involved in at present.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
End of the last present day chapter:
He fell back on his butt and looked for his other pistol. From the rear, someone grabbed the shaft sticking out of his back, and pulled it the rest of the way through. Then a fist smashed him at the base of his skull. Darkness.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A translucent blur slowly blossomed as Ben Baker regained consciousness. He tried to force his mind to comprehend faster and his vision to sharpen. The pain in his neck and his shoulder were becoming more noticeable as he began sensing his environment.
"Enjoy your nap?"
The question came from a fuzzy ghost in front of him. He half hoped it was Connor bringing him a prize for surviving. That would hopefully be presented as a 'Get out of execution free card', or other facsimile acknowledging he was done with this and able to leave.
He knew it wasn't Connor though. The voice sounded gravelly and timbres. Connor's voice reminded him of Skeletor; high pitched and penetrating.
He tried to form a question, but his mind resisted communicating until he received more input. His last memory was of his heart pounding as the woman rushing him with guns blazing caught a bunch of rounds from his pistol. That's when the lights went out.
"What's your name, killer?"
The voice from the amorphous form before him was either trying to test whether he knew his own name, or didn't actually know who he was.
"You have a list of names written on your arm."
This fact helped him focus on reality. He touched his forearm and tried to recall the names.
"That your kill list?"
Baker examined the question and his possible response. The right reply in this circumstance was hardly one that anyone could rehearse ahead of time. 'That your kill list?'
His vision was quickly coming around. The figure before him became a rough-looking older man. His stoic countenance projected a sense of intensity that wasn't apparent in his voice. Perhaps years of controlling the tensions around him with a measured tone had brought this level communicating style into play. The calm, firm tone of the voice belied the time and weather-worn form before him.
"Who are you?" asked Ben.
"My name's Joseph; G.I. Joseph."
Ben supressed a chuckle. He wasn't certain if the man was joking or not. Perhaps he was still asleep and dreaming being rescued by the iconic action figure. Worse yet, the man was serious, and off his nut.
"I know what you're thinking, son. Why couldn't you wake up to Barbie?"
"I guess I'm glad to wake up at all," said Ben.
"So what's your name?" asked the stranger.
Hesitating for a moment, he answered, "Robert Butcher."
Joseph looked at the recently revived man before him, then exhaled with a sound of a sigh, and a hint of a question.
"What names you got on your arm?"
Looking at his arm, he realized that he knew a few of the names, but not all.
Joseph waited a minute and asked, "You got my name on your arm -- Butcher?
Looking at the names, he saw 'GI Joe' printed second from the bottom.
"You don't need to say it, uh, Robert. I peeked at the list while you were napping."
"I don't know half these names. The men from the White House I knew, but only saw one up close to recognize him."
"Was that Angles?" he asked, getting a look of surprise from the survivor.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"So happens I got a list of all the poor slobs that's been sent here. It's pretty long. Connor's been doing this shit for thirty-some years."
"Thirty years! How does he get away with it? He's only been in the White House for two years."
"I'd tell you his biography if I had a couple days and a fifth of JD. We don't have that luxury though. Let's go over those names."
Joseph extracted a small memobook from his woodland issue camouflage jacket.
"I got Angles and Bends. That's kinda funny, if they wasn't both dead." said Joseph.
"I saw Angles. He must have fallen from a helicopter. He was dead. He had erupted on the ground. A real mess."
"Yeh, I found him. The wolves had found him first though. I also found Russell Pipes next to that downed chopper. Wolves had some sport with him as well."
"I knew there was a crash, but I didn't know what it was or anything. I've heard of Pipes though. I saw the wolves when they got to Angles. I just ran away as fast as I could."
"That would be prudent, for certain," said Joseph, with a slight smile on the left side of his face. "Orrin Breefs was there too. He was dead a half a dozen ways. Shot, fell, had a helicopter land on him, and, as the coopdee grass, wolves ate him. Nothing left but to have a boulder land on him."
They both chuckled, conservatively. The strange, gallows humor of the military seemed to allow it.
"I knew Breefs, and his husband, uh, Igor."
"His name was Ivan. Ivan Zaroff." said Joseph.
"Ivan was here too? "
"Tyler Bends is here. B.B. Bauxer -- and his wife as well."
"I saw Bends. Oh man! That guy has got to be dead by now. He looked like barfed up spare ribs."
"I haven't seen him. Probably under a bush somewhere collectin' ants. You managed to kill Bauxers' wife though."
"Was that the woman rushing me? I had no choice. I emptied the magazine on her."
"Well, you did alright with the others. Woody Post had his spine in his chest, Bauxers' skull was ventillated, and I'm guessing it's Zaroff blown to mulch out in the open field."
"I rigged the grenade bag to yank a pin if it were pulled out of the crate. It must have been him."
"Maybe. There was an empty LAW sitting next to Bauxers; he might have shot Zaroff."
"I've got more names on my arm."
"There were two guards I found near the maintenance road. They'd been killed in a fight, looks like. That your work?" asked Joseph.
"No. Who were they? Do you know?"
"Likely, a couple of Connor's flunkies. One was Sergeant Chase Bank."
"What!? Who was the other -- Capital Juan?"
"Willis Fargo."
"I've just got a G1 and G2 on my arm."
"Likely they were interchangeable. Whoever was in the barrell that day was expendable."
"That just leaves one. Number twelve -- Ben Baker."
"Don't you know that guy?" asked Joseph.
"Just a name on my arm."
"Who wrote those names on your arm?"
"I don't know.”
"How'd you get here? Jump out of a helicopter?"
"I don't remember. I just remember talking to Connor and then -- I was here."
"So you're Bob the Butcher."
"I'm Robert Butcher. I work at the -- "
"You're Ben Baker. He works at the White House. When you're here though, you're Bob the Butcher."
"Ben Baker is on my arm," Baker said, looking at the appendage, and the list on it, with a dull, open-mouth stare.
"You're Bobby Do, kid. The Butcher of Baghdad. And this ain't your first rodeo."
"What names you got on your arm?"
Looking at his arm, he realized that he knew a few of the names, but not all.
Joseph waited a minute and asked, "You got my name on your arm -- Butcher?
Looking at the names, he saw 'GI Joe' printed second from the bottom.
"You don't need to say it, uh, Robert. I peeked at the list while you were napping."
"I don't know half these names. The men from the White House I knew, but only saw one up close to recognize him."
"Was that Angles?" he asked, getting a look of surprise from the survivor.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"So happens I got a list of all the poor slobs that's been sent here. It's pretty long. Connor's been doing this shit for thirty-some years."
"Thirty years! How does he get away with it? He's only been in the White House for two years."
"I'd tell you his biography if I had a couple days and a fifth of JD. We don't have that luxury though. Let's go over those names."
Joseph extracted a small memobook from his woodland issue camouflage jacket.
"I got Angles and Bends. That's kinda funny, if they wasn't both dead." said Joseph.
"I saw Angles. He must have fallen from a helicopter. He was dead. He had erupted on the ground. A real mess."
"Yeh, I found him. The wolves had found him first though. I also found Russell Pipes next to that downed chopper. Wolves had some sport with him as well."
"I knew there was a crash, but I didn't know what it was or anything. I've heard of Pipes though. I saw the wolves when they got to Angles. I just ran away as fast as I could."
"That would be prudent, for certain," said Joseph, with a slight smile on the left side of his face. "Orrin Breefs was there too. He was dead a half a dozen ways. Shot, fell, had a helicopter land on him, and, as the coopdee grass, wolves ate him. Nothing left but to have a boulder land on him."
They both chuckled, conservatively. The strange, gallows humor of the military seemed to allow it.
"I knew Breefs, and his husband, uh, Igor."
"His name was Ivan. Ivan Zaroff." said Joseph.
"Ivan was here too? "
"Tyler Bends is here. B.B. Bauxer -- and his wife as well."
"I saw Bends. Oh man! That guy has got to be dead by now. He looked like barfed up spare ribs."
"I haven't seen him. Probably under a bush somewhere collectin' ants. You managed to kill Bauxers' wife though."
"Was that the woman rushing me? I had no choice. I emptied the magazine on her."
"Well, you did alright with the others. Woody Post had his spine in his chest, Bauxers' skull was ventillated, and I'm guessing it's Zaroff blown to mulch out in the open field."
"I rigged the grenade bag to yank a pin if it were pulled out of the crate. It must have been him."
"Maybe. There was an empty LAW sitting next to Bauxers; he might have shot Zaroff."
"I've got more names on my arm."
"There were two guards I found near the maintenance road. They'd been killed in a fight, looks like. That your work?" asked Joseph.
"No. Who were they? Do you know?"
"Likely, a couple of Connor's flunkies. One was Sergeant Chase Bank."
"What!? Who was the other -- Capital Juan?"
"Willis Fargo."
"I've just got a G1 and G2 on my arm."
"Likely they were interchangeable. Whoever was in the barrell that day was expendable."
"That just leaves one. Number twelve -- Ben Baker."
"Don't you know that guy?" asked Joseph.
"Just a name on my arm."
"Who wrote those names on your arm?"
"I don't know.”
"How'd you get here? Jump out of a helicopter?"
"I don't remember. I just remember talking to Connor and then -- I was here."
"So you're Bob the Butcher."
"I'm Robert Butcher. I work at the -- "
"You're Ben Baker. He works at the White House. When you're here though, you're Bob the Butcher."
"Ben Baker is on my arm," Baker said, looking at the appendage, and the list on it, with a dull, open-mouth stare.
"You're Bobby Do, kid. The Butcher of Baghdad. And this ain't your first rodeo."
 Recognized |
|
What!?!
I think you'll like this.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. I think you'll like this.
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. Bill Schott All rights reserved.
Bill Schott has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
