Flashes of Sanity #153: Queen

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Queen

Enjoy!

”I lost contact with Mart,” the soldier said as he tapped his ear piece. ”All I get is static.”
A quick look around the room confirmed that the others had the same issue.
“What does that mean?” Susanne Queen asked all though she had her suspicions.
“Mart failed, he is out of the picture.”
“And where does this put us?”
“Mart was our employer. We don’t have an employer anymore. Our relationship has not changed, Mrs. President.”
“That is ensuring, Dawson.”
The receiver crackled on the desk. “Mrs. President?”
“Yes?”
“The red cloud has changed direction.” The voice said.
“Contain it,” Susanne said. “Do not fire at it. I repeat. Contain it peacefully at all cost.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. President, but how are you thinking we should do that?”
“That’s not my place to know. Find someone who knows how to trap gases in the air and ask them instead.”
“Noted.”
The receiver went silent. Susanne glanced at Marge. The face didn’t move, but in the eyes, Susanne thought herself see approval.
“And Dawson,” Suanne continued. “You and your crew will have a job at the presidential army if you are willing to accept it.”
“If the presidential army can afford hunters like us, we are more than willing to join you.” The soldier smiled.
“Money is now problem Dawson,” Susanne said. She pulled a drawer out of the desk and found a notepad and a pen. “The problem is rather our lack of soldiers. If you have any contacts you would find suitable for our army, I would be grateful if you let me know about them.”
She passed the notepad and the pen in the soldier’s direction. The soldier shook his head and raised his hand at the sight of it.
“I will let them know of you, Mrs. President,” he said. “There are some rogue troops out there I would gladly join forces with.”
“Great!” She glanced at Marge again. The approval behind her eyes was still there.

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Flashes of Sanity #145: Meeting the President

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Meeting the President

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”Sir? What do you want us to do with the red cloud?”
President Gool’s receiver blinked red for mute. He breathed through the pain spreading from his wrist. The hand lay lifeless on the floor. The man responsible still held the knife against Gool’s throat. The blood wandered down Gool’s shirt. Another man held a hand against the mute button.
“Don’t even think of it, sir.”
“What do you want?”
Gool oriented himself through the squad who exploded into his shelter and shot everyone within seconds. Marge Umington walked in with another woman.
“You,” he said.
“Yes me, Charles. Of us two you are the one least suitable to be here.”
“How do you dare insulting me?” Gool threw himself up from the chair. The knife against his throat pushed him back in place.
“Sir?” The voice on the receiver said. “What should we do?”
“I have to answer.”
“Yes, you do,” Marge said. “You will also tell them that you are resigning with effect immediately.”
President Gool stared at his former assistant. Then he laughed.
“Are you dumb? Will you take my place? I am elected by the people! You can’t just throw me away.”
Marge checked a woman. “You know exactly how dumb I am Charles. If you don’t resign, you know there are ways for me to make it look like you resigned.”
The knife pressed harder against Gool’s throat. “And if I don’t resign, will you kill me?”
Marge looked up at him. She smiled as if she just looked at a child failing to stand up for the first time.
“Don’t fool yourself Charles. Killing you at this time is impossible. We will cut you up and run you through a meat grinder instead. What do you say Charles?”
President Gool felt his neck go warm. He locked at all those who lay on the floor. He looked at his hand.
“I will resign,” he said. “But don’t you believe this will get rid of me.”
“I never believe anything Charles.” Marge turned to the man blocking the receiver. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The lamp flashed to green.
“Wait and see what the cloud will do. Keep us updated on its movements.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Sergeant Tarch, effective immediately, I will no longer be president. To contact your new president use this line.”
“Noted Mr. Gool. Thank you for your service.”
The lamp flashed red again.
“I did what you wanted,” Charles said. “Now let me go.”
Marge gave him one of her annoying smiles.
“Charles, that’s not how this works.” She nodded towards the knife holder, and the knife went through Charles’s throat.
Charles screamed. The soldier cut him in pieces.
“Take the others to the grinder too,” Marge said. “And president Queen. Why don’t you take your seat and await your next call?”
Two knifes stabbed through Charles’s eyes. Then his ears. And Charles was left in a world of silence and darkness, and pain.

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Copyright © David B. Johansson 2021

Flashes of Sanity #142: Political Heist

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Political Heist

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”We want everyone to feel safe,” President Gool said in Marge’s ear. ”That’s why we now have initiated protocol ’wall’. No one gets in or out of our precious country, and any attempt of coming in will be treated as an attack.”
Charles still likes his protocols, Marge thought. If she recalled right, the project of sending 50 kids into alien spaceships had been called protocol ‘Baby Boom’. He had at least had the brain enough to never say that aloud to anyone he worked with, except Marge. But Marge was an exception.
“If you carry Dina up this ladder, you will find a bedroom.”
“Great.” Susanne never released the two elves carrying her daughter from her guarding eyes. “Who will be with her?”
The two elves looked at her. They leaned closer to Dina and wrapped their arms around her.
“I have people who will gladly take care of her,” Marge said. “She will be safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, she is the one person I would put anything in the hands of if necessary.”
The two elves looked at each other, then they giggled and threw Dina into the arms of Susanne.
“Let’s go find a diamond,” they screamed and ran off.
Susanne disappeared up the ladder with Dina. Marge took the opportunity to give out orders to the part of Mart’s army he had let her have.
“We walk 100 meters that way until we hit a circular door. Only I know the code for that door.” And maybe some other jerks, she thought. But her feeling was that those had gone away with Xander. And President Gool had never been a man of details. Once we are inside, I need you to quickly immobilize everyone you see. Preferably without making too much noise. President Gool and his closest staff will resist, but they wont be a problem. The problem is a button below Gool’s desk. It will set of a chain of actions that will put every military resource in our direction.”
“We remove his arms,” one of the soldiers said.
His companions agreed.
“Are you that fast?”
“Ma’am, we are faster than that.”
Susanne came down from the room above. Her mouth was a thin line.
“Do you trust her?” Marge asked.
“I don’t trust anyone, but if I would trust anyone, she would be it.”
“Great!” Marge turned to her army. “Now, prove to me how fast you are.”

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Copyright © David B. Johansson 2021

Flashes of Sanity #84: A tough dilemma

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your weekly (during July it is daily!) dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: A tough dilemma

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There had been a lot of random variables involved but somehow Marge had survived the end of the earth.

Somehow they all had survived it.

The problem was that now she had to clean up the mess. The president had done his job. He had done it well. But in the state the world was now, it was crucial he never got reelected. The nation’s security relied on it.

So, Marge had done what was necessary. She removed the editorial from the president’s speeches and the whole world had heard the rudeness coming out of his mouth.

Apparently half the population liked that. Actually, more than half.

Stupid people, she thought. They should not be allowed to vote.

Plan B would be much less convenient. But with the country on the line what choice does she have?

”How may I help you?” The man she called said.

”I would need a scandal.” Marge said. ”It should be a heavy hitter but I want it cleanly done.”

”I think I know what you are after,” the man said. ”We will make sure your business partner meets the right people and the right people get to know about it.”

”Great, no loose ends.”

”No loose ends,” the man confirmed. ”As we always do things. How did you like our last delivery?”

”It met our expectations,” Marge said. ”Sadly most of them died at encounter one.”

”I heard that those were pretty… uncommon circumstances.”

”Very uncommon. Expect more orders like those in the coming weeks.”

”We have Hunters and Witches ready just for you,” the man hung up.

Marge looked at the cellphone still feeling dirty from the discussion. She threw it away.

Now to the next dilemma, Marge sat down on a bench. Who to run this country next.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. That was all she did nowadays.

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