posted on Apr, 6 2018 @ 07:53 PM
"Henry...."
"Mr. President....."
"Well, come on in. They made you first on the list so I know it's another crisis. I swear to Jesus, if this is another op where you didn't follow
my instructions, your outa here."
"Let me explain what happened before you....."
"Henry, just hold on. This has to be about the yacht. Down by Antarctica, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"And I told you if they try to climb the ice wall or make any other kind of landing, you blow the damn thing up. And I'll bet you didn't do it. I
got you the approval for the op and I even went to the trouble of creating a solid cover story. But......, you didn't do any of that, did you? You
did your own thing again and now it's a disaster. Again. Henry......."
"Mr. President, I didn't see the need for the loss of life so I sent the USS Gibson in to hit the yacht with gamma rays."
"Did it cross your mind that the Gibson isn't cleared for covert ops? Why would you even involve that ship? Did they question why they were going
after a civilian boat?"
"I told them they were going after pirates, sir."
"Pirates?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pirates of Antarctica? Are you kidding me? Aye, give me all your ice! ARE YOU ON CRACK?! Please tell me you put a lid on the Gibson's comms.
Henry, do you realize that I might have to drop the Gibson to the bottom of the ocean? Is there a light inside this tunnel? I can't believe
this."
"Sir, Mr. President, they hit the yacht with gamma rays and it disabled everything. Engines, electronics, they were dead in the water."
"Henry, get to the part about the souls. Do I need to get in the limo for this? At least I would have seat belts and an airbag for the
collision."
"Mr. President, the yacht was drifting dead and the Gibson waited for it's next move. That's when the triangle flew over. From, um,
Antarctica."
"I'm sorry, the triangle? Are you telling me Antarctica sent a triangle to the theater? A black triangle? Like a TR3B? Magnetic propulsion and
PHP? Physical Holographic Projection? Is THAT what your telling me? Your not going to tell me they all got beamed up and taken to Antarctica, are
you?"
"Yes, yes sir, Mr. President."
"Jesus.... Henry, here is what you need to do. I need you to leave. I need you to get out of the White House. Put your credentials on my desk
RIGHT NOW! And be off the grounds in 15 minutes. Or less. Henry, listen very carefully to what I am about to say. YOUR FIRED!!!! The Gibson, a
TR3B. Oh my God! You just condemned all those sailors to death. I have to drop that ship, I have too. I can't let them....... Your still here.
Leave before I put you on the Gibson. Or something like that. I'll tell you what. Let's say you had a stroke. You lost your memory. And as long
as you don't get it back, you know?"
"Is there, sir, is there anything I can do?"
"Heh, you could have a real stroke. Why don't you just beat your feet and get THE HELL OUTA HERE! Get him out of here. Out of my office! Out of
the White House! Off the grounds! And he doesn't come back! Henry, what a mistake. You never should have let me bring you in."
"Oh Jesus, forgive me. Blue phone, Bill's number. Bill. ~ring~ Bill! It's the President. Listen, we have a crisis. I just got word from the
Pentagon about the USS Gibson. They have a code 66, active code. Send somebody to manage it right away. Those boys are heroes. Make sure you say
that to the press. HEROES!"
"Alright, Mr. President. I understand. I'll handle this immediately. Consider it done. I'll take care of everything on my end. Make sure you
take care of everything on your side."
Meanwhile, somewhere near Antarctica, a drowsy and confused yacht captain wakes up, unfamiliar with his surroundings.
"He's waking! Put him back to sleep?"
"No, I have questions for him. I want to know if he is aware. Give him a pop injection. You can unpop him when I am done. I don't understand why
his boat wasn't destroyed. We have a contract."
To be continued.......