Les Mousquetaires – Chapter 3 (Where Only Angels Dare Fly) Part 1
“It is not Atlas who carries the world on his shoulders, but woman; and sometimes she plays with it as with a ball.” Henryk Sienkjewicz
Just as soon as the airlock whooshed open there was a cacophony of noise, and then a lightning strike right at the center of the ship – just as the ship’s designer had intended.
However, for more than a second, both Bruce and Lynnette had to stand there and shake their heads.
Both had on noise canceling headphones which also operated as a two-way radio – but noise canceling at this magnitude they certainly were not.
“Now!” Bruce yelled, seemingly out of nowhere, as he shoved his small traveling companion out of the door in front of him.
And with that, she was away; her jetpack fired, and she was rapidly hurtling towards the other ship that was less than a football field away.
“Dear lord, don’t make me a murderer, again,” she heard Bruce whisper, as he launched three-measly-seconds behind her.
“Poor Man’s Caviar you better get that hatch open, we’re coming in hot!”
“We’re? You never said anything about we’re,” the nasally voiced man whined into his radio and for a long moment all Bruce could do was stare at the closed airlock, and listen as the storm raged all around them.
“Um… Bruce, it’s not opening,” Lynnette said into her radio, and then listened as it bounced back into her own earpiece – and then was followed by a large boom from an enormous strike not far enough away.
But before Bruce could answer, every single hair on her body stood on end, as if they were all suddenly up for inspection.
“Dear Lord,” Lynnette whispered to herself, as she pressed her jetpack for more speed – only to race that much faster towards the closed airlock that was her target.
“We’ll talk about it when we’re in there. Now open that bloody hatch, or by-god I swear you’ll have all of Adelaide to reckon with!”
A moment later the hatch opened and both Bruce and Lynnette zipped inside just as an enormous strike of lightning passed through the space they’d just been occupying.
“Holy fucking cow!” Lynnette said, as she struggled to soften her wide eyes.
“Damn that was close!” Bruce bellowed, as only a large and powerful man can.
“What the fuck, Benny? When did you suddenly become afraid of women?” Bruce asked, using the intercom on the airlock panel.
“It’s not that she’s a lady person, Bruce. It’s the lady person she is, that’s the problem,” the whiny fifty-two-year-old answered back.
“How’s that?” Bruce asked, punching the panel less softly than he probably should.
“That lady you got with you is the reason I’m up here,” Benny told the man who was staring at Lynnette now like she had just sprouted a nose horn.
“How’s that?” Bruce asked, this time punching the panel with nearly the regular amount of force.
“She’s the one which hired me for that kilt job up in the Highlands, back eighteen years ago.”
“That fight club jiggy? The one where you pontificated like an arse for three weeks before you realized you’d settled in as the wrong cult leader? That Highlands job?”
Bruce was smiling now, in a way he hadn’t for a very long time – and so he turned away from the security camera.
“Yes. That one.”
The man’s voice suddenly sounded defeated, and more than just a little bit scared. But still, Lynnette tried real hard not to smile.
“Come on, let us in, and I promise she’ll apologize,” Bruce announced to the panel, once he finally regained control of his face.
“Oh, I will, will I?” Lynnette asked, with a single thin red eyebrow raised in a half-mast salute of curiosity.
“Fake it till you make it, Lynnette. Cuz I really don’t care if you bend him over and take him up that tight arse of his, once he opens that bloody door. So, if you don’t mind…”
Bruce bowed a bit, and then smiled another huge smile away from the camera.
However, Lynnette just punched the panel and simply said, “Open this fucking airlock right now or I’ll have every single one of your family members arrested for treason.”
© Raena Exe 2021
*Inspired by life.
*All characters, places, and events are completely fictional.
*All rights reserved.
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