Dragonforce has a new album coming out in August, which I am eagerly anticipating. So, in the meantime, let’s do one off their last album.
Lyrics in the YouTube video.
The Stories and Novels By Derek Ward
Dragonforce has a new album coming out in August, which I am eagerly anticipating. So, in the meantime, let’s do one off their last album.
Lyrics in the YouTube video.
My brother and I, along with a couple of our friends, went to go see the new Captain America flick. Overall, I thought it was pretty damned good. I especially like the theme of “what price for security”.
We went to the same theater of the “texting shooting”. Not for any reason other than it’s the closest theater to my brother’s place. I remember shortly after Aurora, movie theaters had warnings running during the pre-show about letting management know about any suspicious person. The pre-show this time had six warnings to silence your phone and not to text during the film.
Barn door, meet fleeing horse.
Anne
“This was not how I expected my week to go,” Anne said as she looked down at the stubby Russian assault rifle strapped to her chest. “Is it bad that I’m now thinking of hunting a serial killer as more peaceful?”
“Nein,” Kurt said with a smile, “You would be mad to want to do this.” Kurt was similarly dressed in tactical gear, helmet, AK-74U, sidearm, and plenty of extra ammo. Except Kurt was wearing a large revolver at his side as well. “Unfortunately, some of us are called to do the mad things. At least, you have a strong team to support you.” Kurt gave Anne another of those charming smiles. It helped ease the tension. Contrary to television portrayals, detectives didn’t go charging into houses like SWAT.
“I don’t know why you think you’ve had a bizarre week,” Veronica said, “You only learned about our world, found out both sides wants you, been involved in a fight, and your apartment exploded.”
“And an innocent person died,” Anne said harshly. Veronica’s smile vanished.
“We’re going to deal with the people who did that,” Kurt said.
“I know, but her family will never know,” Anne said.
“Welcome to our world,” Erik said from the front. “Not Avalon. Blackguard. Those of us who fight in the shadows, as the Saint calls us. And yes, it does suck that the people we help will never know, or know what we risk for them.”
“Sorry, Veronica, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Anne said, turning back to their spell slinger.
“Don’t worry about it,” Veronica said, “We all deal with stress differently. Plus, you’re a cop. You’re supposed to put the victims first.”
“What do you put first?” Anne asked.
“The Empire,” Erik answered solemnly, “Always the Empire.” Anne thought about that. Well, that certainly explained some of Erik’s coldness. Anne was just the objective for the greater of the good of the Empire. You didn’t get overly friendly with people you were just going to turn over to your higher-ups. The van turned onto the street of the bargainers’ warehouse. Samantha slammed on the brakes and pulled the van to the curb.
“We’re not the only ones staking out the warehouse,” Samantha said before anyone could speak. She pointed to two unmarked police cruisers down the street, maybe a half-block from the warehouse.
“Should we abort?” Kurt asked.
“No, they were waiting for us,” Samantha said, “Well, one of them was. The other was waiting for Anne.” At that moment, two plain clothes officers stepped out of the unmarked cars. Anne immediately recognized the closest as Dale Melon, her partner. The other was Jason McMurtry. What the hell were the pair of them doing here of all places? The two detectives casually walked back to the van. Samantha rolled her window down as Jason stepped up.
“I’m assuming Anne’s back there,” he said to Samantha. He looked over Erik, but didn’t seem alarmed in any way about the heavily armed and armored man. “I was hoping you would show up. I really didn’t want to call patrol officers to this party. I didn’t invite him, though.” Jason thumbed back towards Dale.
“Actually, detectives, it might be better for both of you to get back in your cars and go get some coffee,” Erik said. “Come back here in an hour.”
“I’m not letting you drag Anne into this,” Dale said. Anne climbed up and poked her head between Erik and Samantha. Dale looked shocked to see Anne decked out in combat gear.
“Dale, what the hell are you doing here?” Anne asked.
“I thought Jason was going to arrest you, so I figured I follow him and give you a heads up,” Dale said, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Our killers are in there,” Anne said, motioning to the warehouse, “These guys are going to deal with them, and I have to go with them.”
“Are you insane?” Dale said, barely keeping his voice under control, “If the killers are there, then let’s call out SWAT. If you go in there, you’re going to destroy your career and every case you worked on.”
“Dale, SWAT wouldn’t be able to do anything, but get themselves killed,” Jason said, “You don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Anne blinked in surprise at the other detective’s words. “I’m not here to arrest Anne. I’m here to help her and these other people. You need to get out of here. You don’t need to be any more involved with this.”
“What is this?” Dale demanded. “What the hell is going on? Who the hell exactly are you dealing with Anne?”
“Dale, we’ve been working together for a long time,” Anne said, “You’re going to have to trust me on this. It would take too long to explain what’s happening.” Dale crossed his arms and gave her his obstinate glare. Anne swore under his breath.
“We need to move,” Erik said, “We’ve been stationary too long. Detective McMurtry, if you’re coming with us, you will follow my instructions to the letter or I will shoot you here and call for a medic when we’re done. Detective Melon, you’re about to see things that are not normal. If you freeze up, you will die. If you do not follow my directions, you will die. If you endanger my team, I will take you out. Is that understood?” Dale looked outraged at Erik’s blunt instructions, but Jason just nodded.
“Wait a second, Erik-” Anne started before Kurt yanked her to the floor of the van. Something whistled by her ear before thunking into the bench seat of the van.
“OUT, OUT!” Erik bellowed, kicking his own door open. Kurt slid the side door open and stepped out with the AK in one hand. With the other, he dragged Anne out into the street. Veronica leapt out after her. Anne looked around as she brought up her own AK. The wire stock was hard against her shoulder, just like Kurt had shown her. Where was the attack coming from?
Suddenly, the large golden-eyed wolves from the other night surrounded them. They just seemed to appear out of the air. They growled menacingly, but Anne was sure she’d seen glimmers of delight in their glowing, golden eyes. Anne bit down her terror and let her fury fill her body. These were the bastards who’d killed four people. For what, so their little magic spells would work?
“Well, that was a damned good bit of glamour,” Veronica said, bitterly. “I didn’t even sense it.”
“I’m glad you approve,” a familiar voice said, ringing through the street. Anne looked to where the voice had come from and saw Arem standing next to two of the wolves. “With as little wild magic as there is on this world, it took quite a bit of fancy casting to get it just right.” The dark-haired elf turned to Erik and his face twisted into a snarl. “I think it’s time I finally took care of you.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Erik said, letting the AK drop on its sling. From the small of his back, Erik drew a long-bladed knife. No, it was more like a short sword. Even in the darkened street, the blade glittered with a life of its own.
“Well, well,” Arem said, sounding impressed, “Not only do I get to kill you tonight, but I get to recapture a lost weapon. This is going to be a good night.” He turned to the largest of the wolves. “Remember not to kill the woman, or you won’t get a damned thing. I don’t care what happens to the others.” Arem drew a long, thin sword.
“Let’s go where we have the space to really be ourselves,” Arem said, and launched into the air. No, he wasn’t flying. He was just leaping sixty feet into the air and landing on an office building. He couldn’t expect Erik to climb all that way up there–. Erik launched himself after Arem before Anne could finish her thought. Before she could even ask how Erik had managed that feat, a dozen howls echoed through the street. Gunfire erupted at the wave of fur and fangs bore down on the small team.
Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed. Everything else is public relations.
George Orwell
Maybe this should be explained to the major networks (including Fox) that this applies to members of their same ideological bent.
Follow the link for fun with metal.
Erik
“So that’s all you he said to you?” Erik asked Anne as they pulled up to the safehouse. As soon as she’d climbed into the car, Anne related to Erik about her encounter with Arem at the Brown Hat. He could see why she was a good detective. She remembered everything, including the small details most people missed.
“At that point, Jason pulled me out of the restaurant,” Anne said, “That’s another thing. Do you guys have anything on him?”
“Not that was in the file,” Erik answered, “Why?”
“He seems to know more about what’s going on than he’s letting on,” Anne said, “Nothing concrete. Just a gut feeling from talking to him. Things he said.”
“He could be one of Lady Maritza’s assets, and she’s not bothered to tell us,” Erik said.
“Wait, like a spy?” Anne asked. “You guys have spies? In the city?”
“What exactly do you think Lady Maritza does for the Emperor?” Erik said, with the barest hint of exasperation leaking into his voice. How could someone so sharp also be so naive about the world?
“I thought she managed people like Kurt, not actual turncoat spies!” Anne said. Erik could feel the betrayal and rage burn through Anne.
“We don’t know for sure that he is one of Lady Maritza’s,” Erik cautioned. He needed Anne in the right frame of mind. The raid tonight was going to be chancy enough as is. He did not need one of his shooters distracted.
“If he is, I’m going to kick his ass,” Anne said.
“Anne, I appreciate that the sentiment, but I really need you to focus right now,” Erik said. “We’re going to take down your killers tonight.” Anne’s head snapped over so fast her blonde hair circled her hair like a halo.
“What, how?” she asked. “Veronica found them?” Erik told her about what happened at the lab.
“So, the five of us are going to take them down?” Anne asked, her skepticism rising. “Why not ask Mrs. Holland for more people? She has armed security.”
“Because I do not trust them or her,” Erik said plainly. “I trust my team. I trust you.”
“What is it between the two of you? She’s always so nice to me,” Anne commented.
“It’s not just one thing,” Erik admitted, “Part of it is institutional rivalry, part of it has to do with some things that happened back on Avalon. I’m quite sure she would keep you safe at all costs, but I don’t trust her to protect my team beyond what is ordered.” He fell silent.
“Isn’t all of that unprofessional?” Anne asked.
“The only reason I’m telling you this is because I’m about to ask you to risk your life with my team,” Erik asked. “I wouldn’t even do that, but you do deserve to be in on the strike. That much I understand from my own experience. Also, as much as it pains me to admit it, if things go south tonight, Lady Maritza is the one person in this city you can trust.” Anne looked at him askance. He could feel the confusion in her mind.
“Look, let’s put it like this. Let’s say you and another officer have such animosity between each other that you wouldn’t trust him to back you during a raid, but you know that you could send a victim his way and he’d do his best to help them. It’s kind of like that,” Erik said.
“That is seriously screwed up,” Anne said. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“When we get you to Avalon safely, I’ll tell you,” Erik said, “It’s a long story.”
Anne
“I have my own body armor,” Anne complained as Veronica tugged the heavy Kevlar vest tighter. It wasn’t even cut properly and was squashing her chest. Veronica seemed to understand her discomfort and said something that sounded like ‘Adjust’. Except, it didn’t sound right. Instantly, the armor seemed to mold around Anne like a wetsuit.
“Do you want to get your own body armor now?” Veronica asked mischievously. Anne marveled in the mirror. “I had to use that nasty one to get the proper protection. Plus, this one also has some magic protection in it. Just in case a nasty spell gets thrown your way. Not great, but it should keep you alive.”
“Do I just say ‘Adjust’ again to get it off?” Anne asked. Veronica froze and her smiling face went neutral. “What did I say?”
“I didn’t say ‘Adjust’. I said Tai’in,” Veronica said flatly. “Which is the elven casting word for the adjustment spell.” Veronica came close and peered into Anne’s eyes for a long moment. “I don’t know how you can understand elvish, but do not tell anyone outside of the team.”
“Why, is it like being a Parselmouth?” Anne asked. Veronica looked at her blankly. Anne gave a weak smile. “Sorry, Harry Potter reference. Is it something looked down upon?”
“Let’s just say it might confirm some very dark theories about you,” Veronica answered, “Erik was one of the few that argued strenuously against just having you assassinated once we found out about the Dark Towers’ interest in you. He even told Prince Harry that if he ordered the assassination, Erik would make sure he would regret the orders. If others found out about your sudden abilities with elvish, they may take it out of Blackguard’s hands and have Erik killed.”
“What?” Anne asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Anne. Erik will be just fine. So will you, once we get you back to Avalon,” Samantha said coming through the door. The brunette shot an angry glare at Veronica. The smaller woman shrank down further and bolted from the room. Samantha muttered darkly as she approached Anne.
“Is that why Erik is trying to protect me? So he won’t get killed?” Anne asked.
“If that’s a concern of his, it’s way down on the list. He’s never shrunk from doing anything that might get him killed in the line of duty,” Samantha said, with a tinge of bitterness. The Avalonian shook her head and gave Anne a warm, if slightly insincere, smile.
“Right now, you need to focus on tonight,” Samantha said.
“You don’t think I should be going,” Anne said, examining Samantha’s face.
“Just do me a favor and follow Erik’s orders,” Samantha said, sidestepping the comment. “He’s actually very good at this sort of work.” Samantha helped Anne put on the gray fatigues and MOLLE gear.
“Is there something between the two of you?” Anne asked.
“Let’s finish your story before we go delving into mine,” Samantha answered with a smile that the experienced detective couldn’t read.
Some people’s idea of free speech is that they are free to say what they like but if anyone says anything back, it’s an outrage.
Sir Winston Churchill, prime minister of Great Britain
One of Slate’s writers did a cute little animated video on why we shouldn’t worry about the debt.
I’m sorry to tell you this, but the government can’t indefinitely print money (ask the Weimar Republic) and our inflation rate is missing two key indicators (food and energy). You’re also missing something in the neighborhood of $200 trillion in unfunded obligations (Social Security, Medicare, federal pensions).
Update: Reason has a better article on what’s wrong with the video.
Slate, please go talk to a real economist and try again.
Saturday I went to the gun range with my mom and my friend Rush. When we got to the range, Rush showed me this:
Looks like a normal .45 JHP bullet, right? Then he tipped it on it’s side, and we saw this:
No primer and all of the powder had come out. Out of a factory box.
So, before you load that bullet into a magazine, do a quick inspection to make sure everything is good.
You would have been a hundred today.
A person who probably saved more lives than anyone else in human history should be better known.
Even by me.
H/t Borepatch