OUTSTANDING, well done... well done INDEED!!! i dint think Mike would make it, glad providence thought otherwise.
Posted on 06/20/2016 1:06:53 PM PDT by Travis McGee
Piss Christ? Piss Koran!
Part Four: Resolution
by Matthew Bracken
“Your call, smart guy.” The phone connection made a click and the line went dead.
(The rest is at the Gates of Vienna link above.)
Mike wasn’t a kid. He knew that he wouldn’t live forever. He’d had enough brushes with death to understand that a healthy old age was not guaranteed in the contract. He’d been standing next to men who had stepped the wrong way, and fallen. He’d helped pull a man’s body off a concrete footer where he’d been impaled on an uncapped rebar stake. Just two stories down, and dead as a nail. Laughing and joking the minute before. A paragraph in the back of the paper, if that. There but by the grace of God.
Before he’d climbed the tower, Mike hadn’t planned out how the stunt would finish up. He figured that at the very least, he’d be arrested for trespassing. In fact, he didn’t even have a bottle of piss. It was apple juice, in case he spent the whole day up there and ran out of bottled water. He just wanted BCA News to be forced to publicly account for how casually they accepted Serrano’s Piss Christ as “art,” showing it on their website for years, when they were too cowardly to ever show a single peep of an unpixilated Mohammed cartoon. But finishing the morning by crawling down the twenty ladders, and hoping that some police officers would arrive to protect him from the gathering crowd of enraged Muslims?
No way. Not even if he had believed Vic Del Rio about the police escort, and he didn’t believe that lying weasel for a second. Not after Del Rio set him up for the mayor’s phone call, and the coordinated SWAT helicopter assault. Now there was only a single thin line of police barricades across the middle of 53rd Street, but there were no police officers standing behind it. Frank Salerno had said that the mayor wanted him dead. That, he believed. Some kind of a deal had been struck, but it wasn’t with him. It was between the mayor and the leaders of the local Muslim community.
So even if he wanted to go, to slip away quietly, the mob now unrolling their prayer rugs on 53rd — already angry enough to chew rebar and spit bullets — would see him coming before he was halfway down the twenty ladders. In their minds, he had already desecrated their Holy Koran by tearing up Sura 9:5, the Verse of the Sword.
So the die was cast. Well, nothing lasts forever. It had been a great life, and he’d had a wonderful wife. At least it was a gorgeous August morning in Midtown Manhattan, the rising sun casting beams and shadows down the length of 53rd. If this was his day to go, he thought he might as well make the best of it. He looked at his watch. It was 8:33, so he had just under a half hour. That is, if the mob was going to wait until after their morning prayers to stop the two blasphemies.
He picked up his iPhone to see what they were covering on BCA. A reporter was standing in front of a wave-pounded marina in Cabo San Lucas while Hurricane Eliza swept through. He selected his other television network preset buttons, and saw that none of them were covering the events around 6th Avenue and 53rd Street in Midtown Manhattan. Vic Del Rio had been right. The plug had been pulled on his stunt. He put the ear bud from his little Sony radio back in. On WNYR, he was surprised to hear Jerry Conroy’s voice, but it only took him a moment to understand that it was a pre-recorded “best of” show.
Meanwhile, beyond the puny little barricade just to the west of the crane, 53rd Street was rapidly filling up with devout Muslims who had heard the imam’s call to action. While he watched, he saw something glint in the sunlight. A man in a tan robe unrolled his prayer rug, revealing a sword, which he waved in circles over his head. Then the sword went against the pavement, his prayer rug concealing it.
Mike tried calling the WNYR studio office line again, but got a busy signal. He knew it would be useless to call the other radio and television stations on his list. But he also knew that there must still be cameras on him, even from across 53rd in the Grand Hotel. He found his spiral notebook and his Sharpie, and was considering which sticky-noted verse advocating the murder, plunder and rape of the infidels to tear out of the Koran next, when he heard an insistent rapping behind him. He looked around his poncho lean-to shanty toward the corner office of the bank building, and saw a crowd of people, at least half of them in police uniforms.
The woman from the other office was there again, holding another file folder message against the window. It read >call this number< followed by nine digits. He didn’t recognize the area code; it wasn’t from New York. It was hard to see around the shanty, so he unclipped the bungee cords from the corners, rolled it up, and put it away in his pack. With the BCA cameras a hundred yards across 6th Avenue turned off, it no longer made sense to hide from the eyewitnesses who were nearest to him, police or not.
He still had a zip-lock bag with unused prepaid flip phones, so he used a fresh one to call the number. It was picked up and answered on the second ring. He heard “Hello?” It was a woman this time.
Great Matt. Wish he’d dropped the satanic verses into a bucket of piss though.
I really appreciated your work there. Good stuff.
Thanks.
Found them. TY.
Read parts: I , II, II
On the edge of my seat!
going to tell you know I liked it when I am done!
Oooh,i missed part 3. So excited I have 2 to read!
Wow, Matt...just wow. Excellent read.Thank you!
OUTSTANDING, well done... well done INDEED!!! i dint think Mike would make it, glad providence thought otherwise.
my bad, don't know how you got on the reply to
And speaking of "omissions" - the Department of Jesters just joined the ranks of the enemy combatants by "omitting" Islam from the Orlando 911 transcripts...
pls let me/the ping list know of any advanced sale date... thx
Fantastic!
Awesome story Travis!
I can’t help but wonder if we’re headed for a showdown or if the poor excuses for western leaders will sell us out. Either way I want it to happen now before I’m too old to offer up a proper response.
Good luck with your next venture.
THATS why I cannot find you on FB.
God bless, brother. The STASI censors today.
Getting ready to go read it now, mate. Sorry you became ill recently but glad you are feeling better.
I could wish the story went on for a bit, but hopefully some day the people at Amazon will get their act together and find a way to allow us Linux users to download the Kindle books and I can read more of your works then.
Until then, I appreciate the efforts very much.
Good luck with everything. :)
Thank you Travis (Matt), this short story hits the spot in so many ways. Semper Fi.
“I can’t stop crying and that’s no lie.”
You too huh?
Read
Dunno if this is anything you might be interested in mate, but it relates to the Civ genre even if it is concerning the apparent fall of our own these days.
Please pass the word if you would be so kind.
A good read, and we need all the hope we can get these days.
Cheers!
Matt, thank you so much for this short story. I can not tell you how depressing it has been of late watching our country apparently beginning to unravel and your much appreciated effort to portray something we can hope for is something I and I am certain many others needed to hear.
Thank you so much for this, I mean it.
Cheers!
Excellent...I enjoyed it. Thank you for posting it.
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