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The First American President (standard:horror, 6497 words)
Author: hvysmkerAdded: Apr 13 2006Views/Reads: 2335/1453Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Hopefully, not a portend of the future. Only fiction, I hope.

CPS (Combined Press Services) 06/20/10 Salt Lake City, Utah. Terrorists
bombed the business districts in three towns in the Salt Lake area this 
morning.  All at approximately nine am, killing at least two-hundred 
people.  It would have been more except for an intersection blocked by 
a stalled train in the town of Lakeside.  News sources have still not 
found the exact cause but it is believed to be from exploding gasoline 


“We're in the business of delivering fuel, Mr. Edwards,”  the dapper
little man, introduced as Mr. Hassam, told Ralph Edwards, an out of 
work long haul truck driver.  “Business has been booming lately, and we 
find it necessary to hire a few new drivers.”  The man grinned at 
Ralph, who managed to force a smile in return.  Ralph had been out of 
work for six months and desperately needed a job. 

“We're backed up in this area,” the man continued.  “We can pay you
forty-seven cents a mile, the going rate since we furnish the trucks 
and insurance.  Your first delivery will be to a shopping center in 
Pointview, just outside Salt Lake City.  You won't be rushed.  Pick up 
your fuel at the Denver refinery where we have an account and have the 
truck sitting in the lot in front of Johenson's Department Store at 
precisely 8:30 am.   A car will arrive with another driver to continue 
the trip, and to take you to the train station for your return home.” 

“When do I get my first paycheck, Sir?” 

“At the end of your trip, your pickup will have it for you.” 

Ralph picked up his truck in an old warehouse in Denver.  He saw about a
dozen of the large vehicles parked within it's dim confines.  He didn't 
try to count them in the dim lighting, just checked serial numbers 
until he found his. 

The new driver had to use a flashlight because of dim lighting in the
vast cavernous garage.  His footsteps echoing off the laminated steel 
walls, then the roaring of his lone engine sounded out of proportion in 
the cave like interior. 

The trip to the refinery was without incident.  He was surprised, having
driven other fuel trucks of that type and size, that it only took about 
a three-quarter load before registering full.  Maybe I should leave a 
note for him to check the tank when it's empty again? Ralph thought, It 
might be a quarter full of some residue or something, needing a good 
cleaning.  Since there was enough to fill his commitment, he shrugged, 
no need to call the emergency number. 

Ralph had plenty of time.  He was parked long before 8:30.  Opening his
personal bag, Ralph pulled out a detective novel and started reading, 
waiting for his ride.  He wasn't aware of a digital clock in a sealed 
container down inside the tank.  One embedded in over 500 lbs of 
plastic explosive and clicking it's way toward 9 am.  He never did pick 
up any money for the trip, still being there at 9 am. 


CPS 06/23/10 Nome, Alaska. A flood of unexpected deaths in the area have
been traced to a nerve agent named ‘sarin.'  It is one of a group or 
what are called organophosphates, originally developed in the WWII era. 
 The common denominator is suspected to be a meat from a certain chain 
store.  The entire chain of stores has been closed for tests.  So far 
thirty two people have been affected, eight of them have died at this 


Sarah even took her thirteen-month old daughter with her on her mission.
 Although hurting her anonymity, the baby would decrease suspicion 
later, or at least that was the way her boss figured.  Sarah had to be 
very careful of her left hand.  The middle-aged Sarah wore an extremely 
 important ring on that hand -- a deadly toy.  It was safe while 
covered, but she uncapped it right after putting her baby in one of the 
shopping carts. 

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