Franco stuffed his face with Chile con queso and guacamole. When he finished, he pulled out a cigar.
“Time to get this show on the road,” he said.
Franco ran his golden eye through the retinal scan, which initiated a countdown. He laughed as he lit up the cigar. When the clock reached zero, the computer informed us that all fifty missiles were launched, all aimed at the fifty largest cities in the Western Hemisphere.
“We better get the fuck outta here,” Franco said. “We don’t want to be on the ground when those warheads hit.”
Angelika, myself, Franco, and a few of his minions boarded the private jet. When we were up in the air, Franco was still amused with himself.
“In 19 minutes,” he said as he puffed on his cigar. “We’ll be the richest fuckers in the universe.”
Then he leaned forward as his stomach cramped.
“Damn it,” Franco said. “Montezuma’s Revenge.” He got up and ran to the toilet.
I looked over to the steel briefcase that controlled the warheads. “James, do something!” Angelika yelled.
I swiftly leapt out of my seat and kicked the guard in the dick. “Ow! My groin,” he yelled as he fell to the ground.
With the guard incapacitated, I opened the briefcase and attempted to redirect the missiles. However, I didn’t know how to operate the computer.
“Remove the handcuffs James, I know how to do it,” Angelika said. I took the keys off the guard and set her free. She redirected the missiles into space, where they’d all converge to create one massive explosion.
Moments later, the sky lit up…almost as if there were two suns resting on the horizon.
“Congratulations Angelika, you saved the world,” I said.
“We still have a problem,” she replied. “One missile is not responding to the commands. It’s headed straight for Mexico City.”
I thought for a moment.
“What’s our flight path?”
I busted into the cockpit and knocked out the two pilots with the butt of my rifle. “Our path takes us near Mexico City. We can intercept the missile with this jet,” I said.
I took control of the cockpit in an attempt to steer the jet into the missile. I never flew a plane of that magnitude before. I flew a Cessna once. I figured that flying a Lear at 745mph couldn’t be that different.
“Two minutes to intercept,” Angelika yelled as she was putting on a parachute. I climbed out of the cockpit and began strapping into one on as well.
I kicked open the emergency exit and the cabin depressurized. At that moment, Franco ran out of the bathroom and began firing his Ruger. Angelika grabbed his arm and attempted to knock it out.
“Jump James!” she yelled.
I jumped out of the plane. Angelika engaged with Franco for a few more moments before throwing him out of the plane without a parachute. Then she jumped.
The missile crashed into the Lear, detonating the last nuclear weapon several thousand feet above us. We deployed our parachutes. When we were 20 feet above the ground, Franco rifled out of the sky like a lightning bolt, grabbing ahold of me and crashing us into the ground from his tremendous momentum.
Franco somehow managed to keep his cigar in.
We wrestled on the ground, with him getting the better of me. When Angelika landed, not even she could overtake him. I took out my Beretta, but Franco kicked it out.
While I was laying on the ground, Franco grabbed the gun and aimed it at me.
“Goodbye, Mr. Private Dick.”
The wind then kicked up and my parachute blew on top of him, obscuring his view. I jumped on top of him and began to strangle him.
By this point, I’ve probably killed hundreds of men. But there’s nothing like killing a man with your bare hands.
Franco gurgled for a bit, then the bones and muscles in his neck began to break. When his eyes rolled back into his head, I loosened my grip.
“Let him go, James,” Angelika said. “He’s dead.”
I took my hands off his lifeless body and stood up.
“That was fucking brutal. Jesus!” Angelika told me.
I began to strip off the parachute when a man fully decked out in military regalia came out of nowhere and began to clap.
“Well done, well done,” the strange man said.
He walked over to Franco’s body and picked up his cigar. “I am Admiral General Colonel Majors. United States Navy,” he explained.
“Where were you guys when we needed you?” I asked.
“You were never in serious danger. We were monitoring the situation the entire time.”
Angelika and I look at each other.
“But 50 nuclear missiles were launched,” I replied.
“Don’t worry about it,” Admiral Majors said. “What’s important is that I’m here to recruit you into my ultra top secret kill force, the most lethal unit in the world.”
“You’re a killing machine James. You know that. You love the thrill of taking a man’s life. I watched it with my own two eyes. Face it James, you were born to kill.”
I finished taking off the parachute and threw down the Beretta. “I’m a simple LA detective, Admiral,” I replied. “I seek the truth. I’m not very good at it, but people pay me to do it. But I’m not a killer.”
“Suit yourself,” the Admiral said. “But this isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”
Angelika was later arrested due to being wanted by INTERPOL. Something to do with “terrorist activities” in 14 countries. I called Izzy.
“Mission complete,” I told her. “I’ll back in LA in a couple of days.”
“Oh that’s wonderful, James,” she replied. “Did you find that missing arms shipment? It would be really bad if all those weapons fell into the wrong hands.”
“Fuck! I forgot!”