A Composition Class Project

The following novel is written in installments by the thirteen members of the Bevier C-4 Composition Class. The story is arranged as a novel, so pay no attention to the dates of posting, but follow the tale to its close. As of January 21, we are starting the third of five scenarios for our thirteen characters. You may email or leave comments if you like, and we will be happy to respond if you wish. Enjoy!

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Dimitri Scenario IV

As Dimitri had stood at the door facing Briana the night before, he knew the chances of him actually meeting up with her were 50-50 at best. He had to finish some of the business he had come here for in the first place. He was being asked to do terrible things for his country.
Even as these things weighed on his mind, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to just be normal and to try things with her. He began to despise his own government. They had lied to him, and were attempting to wage chemical warfare on the world’s most powerful nation. Nothing had been done between these two countries in at least fifteen years, and yet the hatred still ran so deep for members of the Russian government.
These same men who ran the government, ran the Russian mafia. The system was so corrupt, so much that the men elected to improve the country were the ones who were holding it back. Dimitri was just a powerless servant of course. He was their instrument of destruction. Countless people had been put underground by his hands. He acted without hesitation, doing these things because he had been told and he knew his leaders were right. He was no longer so sure.
Dimitri held the vial of liquid in his hands. It was cold to the touch, and looked like some kind of makeup. It would be ill advised to put this on your face though. Dimitri wasn’t sure what exactly it would do, but he was positive it would kill, and spread very quickly. This is exactly why he was standing in the post office.
Dimitri placed the vial in a small box and quickly sealed it, he had only done this after poking several holes the tube’s plastic bottom. The lives this would end would ultimately lay at the back of Dimitri’s mind for the rest of eternity.
He had not gone through with his superior’s desire for terrorism, and had instead chosen justice. The box was well sealed, and dropped not in the local box, but the international one. It was not addressed to an enemy of his country, but the motherland itself. Its destination was a happy one for Dimitri, The Boss’s HQ. This was a better choice than his office within the government, as that mail would be searched and scanned. The package would arrive at the HQ several weeks later, seeing it was from Dimitri, one of those idiot grunts would take it directly to The Boss’s office. He would open it seeking news of the great success in America. As Vladimir Putin would ultimately come to know, Dimitri was no longer one of his puppets. As the master puppeteer tasted his last bit of air, and struggled pull it in his lungs, he would curse the betrayal of his most trusted aide.
To the Russian people, they would lose an icon and a leader. But to those who knew better, as scarce as they were, they would rejoice. There was more for Dimitri to do, though. He needed to make sure the people of New York were safe from epidemic. He had opened of malicious virus and needed to make sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone.
At night, the local water treatment plant was easy to get into. Dimitri clutched a Skorpion in his hand, a small, single handed machine pistol that was inaccurate but made up for it with a high rate of fire. He didn’t think he would need it, but sometimes you don’t know. The hardest part was finding the place where the water went when it was finished treatment. There was no better night to do this than now, New Year’s Eve. As he found the last valve, the final barrier of protection for NYC’s water supply, he opened it and dumped the second vial of liquid inside. The serum was now going to be spread throughout the entire city in the morning. But now, Dimitri had a meeting to attend.
Dimitri did everything he could to find Briana, but it just wasn’t possible. The sheer amount of people that had flooded to the town made the already crowded streets, overflowed. Dimitri knew that things were going to be bad in Russia so he needed to make himself disappear to them, or he would surely be killed.
The Internet café was fairly empty, and almost closed for the celebrations, but Dimitri found a computer and hurriedly went to work. Sending an email to the HQ was risky, but believable. He told them that he had gotten very sick and had sent the serum to them so that they could be prepared. It was such a wonderful lie. Everyone there would voluntarily infect themselves with a deadly virus. He ended the message by forecasting his own death, saying he believed he was on the edge of life, and that he had served his nation well. He wished them all well and said goodbye. A lump formed in Dimitri’s throat as he pushed send.
Dimitri left the café, and found that the streets of New York were even more crowded than before. People were pushing and shoving to get better position in lines, some were even fighting. A man bumped into Dimitri, and paused for a moment as he passed him. Only when the man turned around did Dimitri realize it was a police officer. The officer was the no nonsense type. He asked Dimitri if he was from here, which was a dumb question. Dimitri answered honestly and cooperated. The man asked for identification and Dimitri said that he had none on him. The officer said he was going to have to take Dimitri back to the station to question him about some suspicious activity, to which Dimitri insisted could not happen.
The officer, in an extreme display off aggressiveness, pulled a baton and told Dimitri to get in the handcuffs. Dimitri punched him in the face, and felt his nose collapse under his knuckles. Before the man even hit the ground Dimitri was running through the crowd. He was running directly toward the Russian area of town, where he knew he could find shelter. The streets were less crowded this far away, and Dimitri knew it was only a matter of time before he was seen. The police obviously knew something about his actions, based on the way the officer had interrogated him. There must be a warrant on him. As Dimitri was getting into an area of town he recognized and thought he could hide in, a police car pulled around the corner and stopped 10 feet in front of him. The passenger jumped out as soon as it stopped and drew his gun. Dimitri was now 5 feet away, frozen. The only thing he could do was kick dust in the man’s face and dive out of the way.
A shot rang out, and met the pavement. It had narrowly missed Dimitri as he had dove to the ground. The next few moments passed in a blur. By the time Dimitri had gotten off the ground was putting bullets in the air. The initial burst made its mark on the side of the car, and the officers both hit the dirt in an attempt to dodge them. Dimitri’s second burst tore through the nearest man’s chest, sending him all the way to the ground. The other man was on the other side of the car, so Dimitri rolled onto his stomach and shot him in the ankles. One more burst finished the job. Dimitri knew he was going to need more firepower than an inaccurate submachine gun, so he headed toward his hotel.
His room was just as he had left it, 100% organized. The guns were completely organized. An AK-47 with more than enough ammo for a huge battle was laying on the table. Under the bed was stockpile of grenades and ammo for his Skorpion. The backpack Dimitri was about to carry would hold all of this, except for the AK. He would be carrying that. Dimitri was going to fight his way to safety.
As he stepped outside of the hotel, he figured out that was going to be much harder than he had imagined.

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