Written by P.M. Wortham
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Tuesday, 22 December 2009

image for The Secret of Christmas Island (The Kickoff)

IP Newswire: Thomas Spanks, noted physicist, botanist, private pilot, skydiver and with absolutely no connection in any way to Her Majesty's Security Service, also known as MI5, was reported lost somewhere over Christmas Island in the early morning hours.

Followed by Indonesian radar as his plane passed well west and north of Jakarta, Spanks twin engine Gulfstream was seen losing altitude until lost on screen near the Australian controlled island. Rescue crews were dispatched around Christmas Island, consisting of three canoes and a bamboo raft, but no evidence of the crash was ever found. The search continues, aided by British satellite surveillance, but the worst is feared.

Thomas Spanks is a thrice divorced father of two, with a granite chin and a penchant for wheat and barley distilling processes. Cambridge University, his current employer, has set up a 24 hour vigil, to pray for his safe return.


Chapter One

"Bloody tree canopy", Spanks yelled while still entangled in his own parachute cord. He was still angry at his dispatch officer for choosing this as the landing site.

"A rainforest. A BLOODY rainforest. As if to ignore that, oh, I don't know, there might be a few TREES getting in the way of a safe landing. At night. Under a new moon. IN COMPLETE FRICKING DARKNESS".

"Just shut up", the agent known as Madame Bitters said. "The people up in Poon Saan or Drumsite can probably hear you. Be pissed off another day, for now we have to get down from here."

There was no way to tell how far down, "down" was. The forest canopy was so dense, that flashlights were not able to penetrate the foliage to see the ground.

"I can't see a thing, and now I have to pee", Spanks said while searching for a clear view to some dirt.

"You're the damn botanist. What type of plant leaves are these and how tall do they grow?" Bitters asked.

"Oh, yeah, right then. Right you are, good thinking Bitters". Spanks searched with his pen light once more and spotted some broad leaf plants indicative of the Under-Canopy layer of the rain forest.

"Well, we must have broken through the upper layers of the canopy because I see some 3 to 4 meter high plants just below us. If we cut our cords, it would be a survivable drop", said Spanks.

"Fine, you first", said Bitters.

With that, Spanks produced his survival knife and started cutting cords until one was left. A last "snip" sound was followed by distinct branch breaking noises and a "Thud" on the ground below. "I've made it", Spanks called out.

"Good. Stay right there", Bitters followed.

She cut her own cords and fell straight on the same line that Spanks did, landing on his back and forcing him face first to the dirt.

"Thanks for breaking my fall", Bitters said.

"You're a pill", replied Spanks.

The mission was still unclear for both agents, having been supplied their orders only just before jumping from the plane. The low altitude jump was necessary to simulate the effect of a plane going down, while the pilot would still have his hands full wave hopping under the radar back to friendly territory. Based on the newswire report, the rouse had worked.

"Well, since undetected penetration was the first requirement for a continuation of the mission, we can open our orders now, unless of course you would like to extend the undetected penetration a bit further?" Spanks was unflappable in his innate ability to be a horses ass at every possible waking moment.

"You've actually had a relationship with a woman?" Bitters shot back.

"Of course, I am quite adept at wooing the opposite sex".

"And none of them regularly kicked you in the balls?"

"Well, wives two and three were both quite proficient at that exact move, yes".

"Wanna relive those moments of marital bliss?" Bitters asked.

"No, you have a point there. Strictly professional then?" Spanks acquiesced.

Madame Bitters was the American counterpart to the joint country secret mission. Hailing from somewhere inside Texas, a state she will quickly tell you has more land mass than most European countries, Bitters was a specialist at linguistics and pyrotechnics. Her U.S. military friends referred to her at the "broad who spoke well, but was even better at blowing shit up".

Bitters was quick to inspect the contents of her backpack to make sure none of the shaped charges had been damaged. In this case damaged, meant misshapen from the fall. The explosives Bitters carried were safe from impact, they wouldn't explode on their own, but bent or mashed charges wouldn't do the job they were intended for.

"At least the charges look OK", Bitters said.

"Oh good. We won't have to dash off to the hardware store for a replacement then. That's a load off." Spanks was attempting a tad of light humor. Bitters stood there with a blank stare.

"Well, we should probably crack our orders open", said Spanks.

With that, both agents broke the plastic seal on their paper orders. Each had assumed that the other's were exactly the same as was standard operating procedure in case one insurgent was lost. In this case, the orders were slightly different for both, though instructions were to act as if they were the same.

"Right then. We need to rendezvous with our contact near the South Point Phosphate Quarry", said Spanks.

"What kind of a code name is JAGGEDONE" said Bitters. "I get why yours is Molto Asino".

"I had an Italian mother", replied Spanks.

"But I don't get the Jaggedone reference. Haven't heard of that agent either. We'll have to be careful", said Bitters.

On their way to the southern tip of Christmas Island, the two agents hatched a plan to create a backup situation in case the meeting was a trap. Spanks agreed to go in alone with the story that his pair had been killed on the low altitude drop, while bitters took the best elevated position on the perimeter with MP-5 and night scope at the ready. If Jaggedone was to be trusted, Spanks would give a predetermined signal.

The signal was the source of much deliberation on the long hike. The heat and moisture from the floor of the rain forest was oppressive even in the early hours of the morning, which made the art of persuasive argument all the more challenging.

"Why can't I just raise my arm and have you come in from cover." Spanks asked.

"Because that isn't good enough of an apology for your earlier comments about penetration, you twit."

Bitters thought a moment more then offered, "When you know the coast is clear and the meeting is safe, you are to open your arms wide and declare to the sky, I AM A COMPLETE ASSHOLE. That makes us even".

(Next Writer)- Jaggedone

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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