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!

Monday, January 4, 2010

Dimitri Scenario II

The moment was here. He had the flash drive, and was ready to learn all that it had to offer. As soon as the drive was in place, a little boy, no more than 3 or 4, came and sat next to Dimitri.
“Whatcha doin mister?”

Dimitri was annoyed but decided to be nice to the kid until he left. It was better to not make a scene right now.

As Dimitri was about to bust out his American accent, the boy’s father grabbed him by the collar and told him to “leave that nice man alone.” A close encounter, but Dimitri could get back to his work.

The screen went blank for a few seconds and the anticipation began to build. All the answers Dimitri wanted were about to be revealed. He would finally know The Boss’s identity, and what their organization had been working on.

Finally a menu came up and the moment was here. Several of the first few files were just logistics and all kinds of numbers. Nonsense. The next file was actually an email conversation. The first of the messages was addressed from an address within The Boss’s organization, to a government address. It spoke of a divine cleansing, similar to what the soldiers had been saying at headquarters.

Two messages later, the person from the mafia said that he was being probed now and that it was best they either speak in person or communicate through only government emails. That made it clear that The Boss was a member of the government, now the mystery was finding out who it was. The only clue was the initials used. VP was The Boss, and DM was the other man, who was definitely a high-ranking government official.

When Dimitri read the next message it became painfully obvious who these men were. “VP” was telling “DM” that it was a good thing he had been ready to take over his position as prime minister. DM was Dimitri Medvedev, Russian prime minister. The Boss, the spearhead of the entire Russian mafia and its operations around the entire world, was Vladimir Putin. Vladimir was Russian prime minister from 19—until his multiple terms came to an end in 20--. He was still rumored to be in charge, through a “puppet president”. This man was Dimitri Medvedev.
Dimitri now knew that The Boss and his organization was in control of the Russian government and that obviously the Cold War was still being waged behind the scenes. Dimitri had to focus on what he was going to do once he got to New York. He decided he would go to the Empire State building to scout the area.

The train ride was about another hour long, and Dimitri spent most of it thinking about the state of his government. It blew his mind that something so huge could have been going on this entire time without anyone knowing. The Russians were obviously trying to exterminate America with a massive infectious disease. The Americans must have learned about this, and begun work on an antidote. Dimitri was sent to get the virus from the Russian lab, then to the American lab to retrieve the antidote. Both were to be sent back to headquarters so that they could be duplicated and put into the water supply. The Russians would be safe, and the Americans would be ravaged by disease. It’s the perfect crime, executed on an entire country.
The train station was crowded and noisy. Dimitri quickly left the area and walked in the direction of the Empire State Building. He found an unchained bike outside a Starbucks, so he commandeered it. It made the transit much easier, at the actual owner’s misfortune.
The security in America was better than expected, but still not good enough to stop Dimitri. Carrying a bag full of guns, ammunition, and knives into the Empire State Building was not advisable. He left the duffel bag in a trash can across the street, and went through the security checkpoint without a problem. The elevator ride up was boring and full of corny American music. The view from the top of the building was rather beautiful, despite the act that everything was made of concrete. The Russian district was within view, and Dimitri knew where to go now.

Dimitri got to where he had left his bag, and it was still there, sort of. A homeless man was using it as his pillow. Only in America… Dimitri woke the man up and took the bag back. The downtrodden man only groaned and went back to sleep.

The bike had been stolen, ironically. Dimitri stole another bike and rode into the night. Not entirely sure of his destination, he had a lot on his plate for the next day.

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