Wednesday, October 8, 2014

You need to know

  Not too long ago, I was involved in a dangerous mission where I was critical injured. I was flown to a secret base for extensive medical treatment. What I learned after all this was that I was not able to die. This was a top secret study to understand why I do not die. All the big brass hung around to see if I could be a weapon. I want to say first that I would do anything as my capacity as a fighter pilot. I still made bombing raids but my bosses does not think I should fall into the enemies hands. I see why, therefore. My missions are highly scrutinized and if there is a small chance then I will be placed on desk duty. The Flight Surgeons want and need to spend as much time with me as possible. To figure out how I have these death-defying incidents where I will always survive. They do not understand why I come back in water. I suppose that for the next several weeks I will be studied to find what makes me so different. I cannot tell anyone what I am going through and let me tell you this is no fun. The Flight Surgeons will stop at nothing to figure why I have not been able to die. I just want to be back with my battle buddies and my squadron to go back like it was before. Something is very, very strange going on with me and I hope that I can help them. I am ready to get back into what I do best; soldiering. Please hand in there with me to fight these   Not too long ago, I was involved in a dangerous mission where I was critical injured. I was flown to a secret base for extensive medical treatment. What I learned after all this was that I was not able to die. This was a top secret study to understand why I do not die. All the big brass hung around to see if I could be a weapon. I want to say first that I would do anything as my capacity as a fighter pilot. I still made bombing raids but my bosses does not think I should fall into the enemies hands. I see why, therefore. My missions are highly scrutinized and if there is a small chance then I will be placed on desk duty. The Flight Surgeons want and need to spend as much time with me as possible. To figure out how I have these death-defying incidents where I will always survive. They do not understand why I come back in water. I suppose that for the next several weeks I will be studied to find what makes me so different. I cannot tell anyone what I am going through and let me tell you this is no fun. The Flight Surgeons will stop at nothing to figure why I have not been able to die. I just want to be back with my battle buddies and my squadron to go back like it was before. Something is very, very strange going on with me and I hope that I can help them. I am ready to get back into what I do best; soldiering. I called a couple friends of mine to accompany me to the Petro Truck Stop. I had them wait in the lounge with a predetermined code to let them know if things went south. I did not have to wait long. In came Pedro looking bad. I mean that he looked sick. He must have stayed coked up for a few days is my guess.
  I stood up to get his attention and before he walked three steps there was a loud shot. I recognized the sound of a high power semi-automatic pistol. Two quick shots followed and Pedro went down. I did not hang around to check on him because by the time I heard the double tap I was already out the doors. All hell broke loose inside with people running out of the Petro not knowing where they were going, just getting away from the shots. I eased to my car and slowly left the premises heading south on I-15 to the strip and the safety of my Hotel suite. What the hell just happened? 
  As I was watching the news about the shooting trying to figure if I was on their hit list. My mind was racing. I could not maintain conscious flow of thoughts. Nothing close to this has ever happened before. I was afraid to use the phone for fear of my suite being bugged. If it was bugged they would have known I would be there, too. That makes me believe I was not a target. Pedro most definitely was the target. Why? Did he fuck someone out of their dope? Does not sound like Pedro. Did the Bolivians think that maybe he was the reason one of their high ranking cartel members was murdered a few days ago. I had to get out of Vegas, fast. I could not use the Leer for fear of being blown up in the middle of a flight. My mind is racing 90 miles an hour trying to see if it was possible I would be next. 
  I immediately went down to the Hotel safe and withdrew all my cash, jewelry, and passports. I had $560,000 dollars in cash. The rest of my money was tucked away in a dry dock for smaller fishing boats inside the well of a redone Chris Craft. It will be safe while I find a way to figure out what happened to Pedro.
  The phone rang in the rental car as I was driving East on I-70 just before the tunnel. It was a good 16 hours after Pedro got smoked. I picked up the phone with confidence because only one woman knew my number. The voice was indeed Latino with the man speaking softly he asked, "Did you hear about Pedro?" I played dumb and asked who the hell Pedro was. "You piloted a Leer that landed at McCarron just six days ago with Pedro, a few Rock Stars, along with several beautiful women. Now, let me ask again. Did you hear about Pedro?" I did not know what the fuck to say. Obviously, he knew when I landed and about my passengers. So, I took the bait. "Yes, I heard about Pedro. May I have the pleasure of getting your name?" He said in due time. all will be revealed. He then asked me if I was leaving Vegas I had better change my plans. Whew, at least he hasn't got a GPS tracker on my car. I thought it over about 5 seconds and turned my car around heading back to 'Sin City'. The only way I was to find out the truth is to hear this guy out. I have never fucked over any of my cartel friends so what or where do I fit into this. I damn sure don't know.
  It was less than a minute and a car plowed me over the side, into the water. I do not know who or where I will be, next. All I can say is , HOLD ON!!!.