Posted on 06/06/2016 6:39:14 AM PDT by Travis McGee
Mike Dolan came out of the subway, hit the sidewalk and set out down the west side of 6th Avenue with a purposeful stride. Midtown Manhattan never truly sleeps, particularly just before a Monday morning, but compared to what it would be like in a couple of hours, it was geared way down. No tourists yet, mostly delivery trucks and vans. All lanes were northbound, because it was 6th Avenue.
Mike was showered and clean shaven, every item on him and in his possession carefully considered. The white hard hat on his head was the real deal. He wore a gray polo shirt with the embroidered black-and-yellow logo of a crane manufacturer above the pocket. Both items were gifts from old friends. The black cargo-pocket work pants over his Red Wing construction boots were practically new. An iPhone in an armored carrier was clipped to the black nylon riggers belt on his right hip. A silver tape measure was next to a small black flashlight on his left. On his back was a compact but heavy pack, also black. In his right hand he carried a small black tool bag, and he held a folding aluminum clipboard case in his left. On the F-Train over from Queens, another early riser had gestured toward Mikes hard hat, and asked him if the strike was over. Mike just mumbled something about safety inspectors never getting a day off.
After a career spent pounding bolts hanging the high steel, it felt strange for him to be wearing a white hard hat for his trip into Manhattan. The white hard hat and the crane-logo polo shirt were just a disguise for his mission. Like his father before him, Mike was a union man, from the time he got out of the Army, until hed retired a few years earlier. The New York Ironworkers Local Union 461 had carried him all the way through his family-raising years. Now, the kids were gone, and his wife had passed away.
Mike had always worn a scuffed-to-hell red hard hat with an American flag sticker on the front. Shiny white hard hats were for management pukes way down in the trailers, and for inspectors and reporters and a few other random assholes who would occasionally make an appearance at nose-bleed height. Well, maybe they werent all assholes. Some of them were pretty cool, like the construction company honcho who had given him the white hard hat right off his head on the job site parking lot, and offered Mike a salaried position with his big and growing company. That was a line Mike Dolan couldnt crosshed be a union man until the day he diedbut it was a welcome gesture. And now that white hard hat was on his head.
After walking a few city blocks south from the subway entrance, the black edge of the forty-story BCA building became visible across the avenue. The BCA building was one of Mikes two targets, but it was not his destination. The black granite tower was the national headquarters of the BCA television network, including the studios of BCA World News. Another block down 6th, and Mike passed in front of another impressive skyscraper, the fifty-story Grand Hotel. Cabs were waiting under the portico; it was the usual scene remembered from a thousand pre-dawn trips into the city. Hustlers, pimps and low-lifes of every stripe, who were just ending their nights, passed worker bees trudging the other way toward their daily grinds.
While he was approaching 53rd Street, Mike looked around and counted at least four cameras. It didnt matter. He knew hed been on film from the time hed gotten onto the subway. If his mission succeeded, his identity would probably be out anyway. The guy on the F-Train who had asked him about the strike would be giving TV interviews by the twelve oclock news. So what? It wouldnt change anything.
The rest of Part One at the link.
Bump, thanks Matt.
I'd post it all here, but it has embedded photos, and it'll be easer just to go over to WRSA. The crane below will take you there.
Matt
—bflr-
Good on ya!
Travis / Matt - I look forward to following this story series as it develops.
Your fine writing is appreciated by many.
BTW: glad to see your most recent story mentioned in a number of places.
Keep spreading the word about one of our greatest existential threats.
http://gatesofvienna.net/2016/01/the-alienork-way/
I was going to complain about most of the excerpt being about his attire, until I saw who posted it. Off to read the rest of it now.
the infowarrior
I’m a bit disappointed, mate. The picture at the end of chapter 1 does not do the title justice. :(
Cheers.
A bit slow to begin with, but it got interesting further in.
Matt, can you create a ping list for this as you release new installments?
Wow. I’ll be anxiously awaiting Part II!
L
May God guide and protect you, Matt.
Don’t worry, it will be Manhattan Armageddon by the end of the four hours.
Sure thing.
Betty, hold page one for a four-column pic, top of the fold, no cutline yet. The TV pukes have it live, but they may cut away from the lead. I've got my Nikkor 1200-1700mm f/5.6-8 on it on a tripod, once I've got the money shot I'll send it to you, and feed you updates if anything follows....
Great lead in!
Bump!
Great lead in!
Outstanding, sir! Picked up your first installment over at WRSA. I love the way you think.
With a proper Piss Korun, I would hope! :) *crosses fingers*
Cheers!
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