The Man From Mars - Episode Thirty Seven

   The Pilot of the Helicopter said something in a language I did not recognize. He and Tiny spoke to each other, obviously understanding each other, and they held a brief discussion with each other.
   They were calmly speaking to one another when I heard a bunch of little rockets being fired from the back of the copter. I couldn't see what was going on behind us, but my imagination was running wild enough that I could swear I heard at least five to ten incendiary devices being fired.
   They had to be antimissile incendiary devices because as quickly as I heard them being fired, I heard a large explosion behind us. The Pilot then started a kind of zig zag motion with the copter.
   It wasn't the usual kind of zig zag motion you see in the movies, where the airship is making sharp angles back and forth, he also included sharp angles up and down.
   I quickly gathered that if he just flew the helicopter in the standard back and forth, zig zag formation, the two military helicopters behind us just have to point their guns in one fixed position and keep firing forward. Then our copter eventually would cross paths with their line of fire. Taking ourselves out.
   I admired the fact that these guys were trained in military tactics, but still, this crazy zig zag motion of the helicopter didn't make the back of my throat feel any better.
   For me, it was one dry heave after another, while I watched Tiny and the Pilot calmly talk strategy.
   Or, they could have been talking about last nights poker game as far as I knew.
   It became suddenly quiet between the two and Tiny slapped his hand up on my forehead. Forcibly pinning it tightly back against the headrest.
   I'm sure the technology to completely stop our helicopter in midair hasn't been invented yet. Or, I mean, it hasn't been shared with the World by Ponleak yet, but I was happy with Tiny's hand upon my head. The G forces of momentum would have snapped my head forward so sharply that I believe I would have broken my neck. Then, when he lowered his hand to my chest, effectively grabbing my shirt, I knew I was in for another ride.
   We went start up in the air with the same amount of G forces it took to stop us.
   At this point of the ride, blacking out was a happy reprieve from all of this zig zagging of G forces.

   This is where it gets weird.
   I woke up naked, in a king size bed, with the morning sunlight shinning on my face. A woman was sitting in a chair at a little round table reading a book called, "The Fuhrer's Medallion."
   I coughed a dry cough and barely being audible, even to myself, I asked the young lady if I could have a glass of water.
   She smiled at me, picked up a cellphone, and said something in French to whomever was on the other side of the call.
   And no. She did not get up right away to get my glass of water.
   She just sat there smiling. Smiling at me.
   That is when I noticed the gun sitting on the middle of the table.
   She put down her book, picked up the pistol, and kind of aimed it in my general direction.

To Be Continued.....

Next Week.

This is,

Looking For A Glass Of Water Myself,

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“This is what's beautiful about staying in a hotel: you are invisible, as is your neighbor.”
- Amit Chaudhuri, -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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