End of the line

I'm back like I left somethin', ha ha!  Seriously, I ask any readers to bear with me while I'm in the mist of perfecting a new writing process.  I'm not complaining about it because, the process makes it easier to write, however, the frame work lends itself to the story almost taking on a life of its own and the story starts to become unmanageable.  That said, I hope you like it.  Constructive criticism is always welcome! Part 2 Coming Soon

Prompt: A story about unrest.
Genre: Open
Word Count: 1500 words (or fewer).
Deadline: Thursday August 18th 2011 8:30 PM EST

From the website -International Business Times:  London Riots 2011 Frightening Pictures

     ".... and for the third night in a row, the city of London is on fire, literally.  Jack could you tell us what the..."  A tense silence settles over the room, as he powers the television off, while turning on his heel, to return to his seat on the edge of the desk.  Looking down, his elbow on his thigh, hand pinching the bridge of his nose he breathes, "what's to prevent the same from happening here?"  Bewildered looks, makeup the sole response to his question.

* * * * *

     "This will finally show the agents of this pseudo plutocracy, we can no longer be ignored.  It's time someone struck a blow for the lower classes in this country, for all those who carry the burden of  Washington's burgeoning debt upon their backs."  Her fist thuds down onto the table, rattling various instruments, glinting from the dim light overhead.

     Looking down, Casey scuffs the sole of her shoe on the gritty, steel gray tile, sighing "are you sure the gas will just stun those in its path?"  She whispers, "And not    kill?  I want nothing to do with ..."

     "Be at ease, all the active agents come from current human sedatives, just a few added enzymes to convert the formula to gas", a wry grin crosses her face "have no worries, this will only be shock and awe.  Then we issue our ____demands, encouraging Washington to change its ways or else. "

     Casey grabs the two duffel bags off of the floor and heads for the exit at the west side of the room.  Hmm, I thought they'd be heavier.  Hague's voice projects into the hallway,

     "Make sure you get those to the rendezvous point ASAP, Les has the final components."

     Parking the Enduro dirt bike outside a rented hangar near the Artesia Municipal Airport, she snatches the one duffel bag from the rear of the motorcycle, while leaving the other bag strapped to her back.  She Hesitates before entering the hangar and, tries to remove the apprehension from her visage prior to meeting with Les.  She visibly shivers, man, that guy gives me the creeps.  He always put her in the mind of Albert Einstein on crystal meth.  Shaking her head and trying not to shudder, she steps in, calling out with a loud HELLO!

     Les immediately pops out from behind a large canvas curtain, a faint sulfuric scent wafting from his direction as he approaches the lone entrance into the hangar.  Wearing an impish grin, he reaches for the bags, giving both bags a quick, soft caress before cradling them like a couple of newborns.  She swallows and looks down at her shoes, in order to avoid his maniacal gaze.

     "Now for the magic, hee hee hee hee", his high scratchy voice filling the silence.  "Wait here!"  He disappears back behind the canvas.  Clanks, bangs and clicks follow shortly thereafter, putting her in the mind of a busy auto garage before midday.  She thinks of going to peek around the curtain, her feet already starting to carry her forward towards the nearest edge of the curtain.  A static like flash, accompanying a small pop and a strong stench of acrid smoke, serving to stop her where she stood.  The sound of a faint footfall turns her attention back toward the entrance, she screams as two individuals in all black, faces covered to the eyes, accelerate towards her.  The shorter of the pair backhands her across the mouth, sending her staggering while, his or her partner dashes in the direction of Les and the curtain.  Her assailant gives her one hard look before leg sweeping her to the ground and following in the curtain's direction.

     While, trying to regain her feet, the assailants emerge from around the curtain, running hard, the larger of the two carrying a large hiking/camping style backpack.  Her earlier assailant kicks her in the side of the head, just as she plants her feet to stand erect, sending her sprawling once more.  She finally, manages to regain her feet, shaking her head, she staggers out of the entrance of the hangar, deciding to attempt pursuit of the thieves, rather than check on the well-being of her colleague.  Sand and rocks fly as she witnesses the departure of a late model jeep from the vicinity of the hangar.

     She woodenly, shuffles over to the side of the hangar, just managing to straddle her bike but, struggling to get it start it.  Vruuuuuuuunnnnn, the engine turns over and she takes off down the path in the direction of the escaping vehicle, unsure of what she would do if she managed to overtake the fleeing Jeep.

     The sight of the scene before her, strips her of all thought upon completion of the chase, arriving just a minute or two behind the thieves' Jeep.  Impossible!  The government knows?

     The initial explosions send shock waves through the compound, knocking Casey to the ground and snatching her breath away in an instant.  A glance at many of the buildings in her line of sight reveals a green glowing vapor emanating from fissures opened during the concussive blasts. 

     Pieces of bodies, as well as whole corpses litter the ground in every direction, scattered inside as well as outside of the buildings within the compound.  Scorch marks cover every surface, including a number of the still twitching bodies of men and women wearing both civilian and military attire.  Turning away from the carnage and eerie vaporous fumes, she staggers toward her motorcycle, starting it easily and speeding away into the night.

* * * * *

      "I want the perpetrators, and I want them yesterday.  Send everybody, there is no other priority", his stern look turning inward with each word.  Clasping his hands behind his back he begins pacing the floor of his office as the attendees begin filing out of the door. 

End of Part I