Really scary bad guys, and they were causing a whole lot of very serious trouble. Like that.Īnd our super-duper computer system, MindReader, has been picking up some hints about a really big attack planned for the US of A, and if the rumors were true then it was going to involve some kind of electromagnetic pulse weapon. Attacks on power grids, an attempted sabotage of a nuclear power plant.
A bunch of their SpecOps fighters were Americans, so even with the heightened security and paranoia here in the States following the drone stuff, we were feeling some rabbit punches from them.
And very scary, too, because it allowed them to come at us in unpredictable ways. Was it weird that ISIL was using shooters who were not Muslims? Yup. Real pros, too, and they managed to scoop up leftover Kingsmen from the ruins of the Seven Kings organization. That was bad enough, but now they’ve upped their game and have put several special ops teams in the field. These are experienced soldiers who have been nurturing grudges. Most of the people running them are former officers from Saddam’s army. The press writes about them like they’re a disorganized goon squad who are only a threat to the notoriously unstable governments in the Middle East. Then I went back into the field and since then I’ve done nothing but run. A bunch more time in rehab, then way too much sitting behind a desk doing paperwork and feeling my ass grow flat. I’d spent a lot of the rest of the spring in hospitals. It was the first game I’d managed to catch since the craziness at Citizen’s Bank Park last year. Hot dogs loaded with everything that’s bad for me, ice-cold beer in big red cups, and the opportunity to spend a few hours yelling at a bunch of young millionaires trying to hit a little ball with a big stick. I was four minutes away from calling it a day and cutting out early to catch an Orioles-Padres game at Petco Park here in San Diego. What pisses me off is that it seems to believe in me. There’s possible, there’s improbable, there’s weird, and there’s no-fucking-way. For the record, I don’t believe in this stuff.
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