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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1684858-HIGH-and-DRY
by RICH
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest · #1684858
A parachutist is blown off course.500/2 contest.
                                                  High and Dry



      The name's Blond, Dick Blond, and being a private eye is the game. Occasionally there is a bit of freelancing for the government agency, who of course, will remain nameless.

      That caper last week must have impressed the high-ups very much. Hardly had the results been dropped off to them, than I get called in again. Those photos must have impressed the Boss-man. Who would have thought. 'Him and Her'! Two such prominent figures, and luck was there, 'cause there they were, down at the beach and on my fishing day. Enough said. Nice photos they made and never aware of anybody else.

      Appointments were always at late night hours and in the utmost secrecy. This is the secret service and working with them is the aim.

    “Now Dicky-boy, I have a very hush hush job for you. Would you be interested?”
   
      Boss-man was behind his big desk, smoking a big cigar, and reclined in his big recliner. Boss-man was not big himself, the job was the big one. 'The Chief', and nobody doubted that.

    “Anytime for you Boss.”

    “You made sure that no one saw you come here, you kept the usual agreement? Nobody knows that you are here, Dick?”

      Nodding and the palms started sweating in anticipation of an important job. That means top pay and the opportunity to move up in this business. Even a permanent position could be in the future. A fancy suit, a license to kill, and even an expense account. Now that would be heaven. The dream was becoming a reality.

    “Sorry to do this on such a short notice. This cannot wait and it must be done now. Can I count on you, Dicky ol' boy?”

    “Off course Sir, I am your man. There is nothing or nobody that I have to worry about. How long will it take?”

      “Not long, it should be over in a jiffy.”

      With that, I was given a small briefcase and a black stocking.

      Boris, the Boss-man's watchdog was called in and the Boss-man confirmed my being “IN” and with a bulldog-smile, Boris escorted me to the military airport where a plane was already waiting for me.

      It was such a secretive job, I had to put the black stocking over my head as the pilot was not even allowed to know who I was. My order was to parachute out and when I landed, all I needed was in the briefcase.

      One thing that concerned me a bit was that the pilot was blindfolded. I asked Boris and he assured me that the pilot was going to fly 'blind' and as it was so important that no one should know, not even the pilot, as to where, what, or who, about the mission . Once the plane was airborne, the auto-pilot will be controlled from the central control.

      One thing was for sure …. I was moving up!

      I was strapped into a parachute, took a seat and the plane started. Off into the unknown we go!

      Curiosity got the better of me and I opened the briefcase. A bit perplexed, I looked at the contents:

      A box of matches; an onion; a Luger pistol with one bullet; a light bulb and a cellphone.

      Well, the Boss-man knows what was what.

      After losing count of time, guess about three to four hours later, the red light started flashing, indicating that I should get ready to jump out. The side door slid open and then the green light flashed.

      I jumped out holding the briefcase to my chest, I opened the 'chute and it was a para-sailing 'chute and easy to control.

      With all this excitement, going to the little room was something I had not thought of, here, hanging in the middle of nowhere nature was calling. Then I thought about my new undie that I had bought lately, those with the word 'Cutie' on the front or was that supposed to be that at the back? There was no way I was soiling my Cutie undie! Grin and bear, as I was taught.

      Out of darkness the wind started blowing and a battle was on to keep from flipping over. My parachute lessons kicked in, pulling strings this way and that, I managed to keep floating and even kept a hold on to the briefcase. The only problem was that my original drop-zone was fast disappearing out of my reach.

      The wind died down after about two hours and as the first light of day broke, I looked around. The ocean was all around me and looking this way, then that way … and from up high ... there in the far distance I saw what appeared to be land.

      Never was those para-gliding lessons more welcome. I sailed up and around,  like an eagle in the sky, ever closer to my aim. Land and a loo, that was my aim.

      Sleep was pulling at my eyelids and for a moment, just a moment, sleep won. The briefcase slipped from my fingers and I watched it spiral downward. When it hit the water, there was a flash of explosives and then I knew, it was meant for my secret target. The wind saved the target and me - up high and dry - for another day.
© Copyright 2010 RICH (j2rr at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1684858-HIGH-and-DRY