Dead men tell no tales (standard:drama, 731 words)
Author: Michael Lance Kersting	Added: Jan 27 2010	Views/Reads: 3403/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Politics is a dirty game where no one is tobe trusted..fully.

Dead men tell no tales By Michael Lance Kersting 

The President of the little banana republic was giving one of his long
winded speeches to the long suffering crowd when the assassin's bullet 
struck him in the head. It was approximately 3.15 on the afternoon of a 
crisp October.day. The impact of the bullet shattered his skull spewing 
blood ,brain matter and bone all over his specially invited guests 
sitting behind him on the stage... 

There was a stunned silence of disbelief for a few seconds , then
pandemonium broke loose as both guests and spectators ran screaming  
all directions for safety .and it was all caught on local and state TV, 
even the involuntary convulsions of the headless body. spewing blood 
from the severed arteries all over  the stage. A smile of satisfaction 
crossed the assassin's face. ‘Mission Accomplished” he gloated as he 
placed the rifle in a closet nearby, he didn't even bother to 
dismantled it. He had deleted the serial number with sulphuric acid a 
while back anyway. “Now for phase two, the better part!” he said with 
glee and that was collecting the rest of the cash he was offered by the 
insidious “Organization” who had hired him .He was instructed  to go to 
a certain numbered mail box at a post office outside of the city, there 
he would find the remaining amount of his fee. 

Being an ex army sniper, he knew he had to be very careful for he was
dealing with ruthless ambitious men. 

In the hotel room he quickly removed his gloves, picked up his traveling
bag ,stepped out into the long, narrow green carpeted corridor. 

He boarded the empty elevator and made his way down to the ground floor,
where he calmly walked over to the parking lot, got into his car " "So 
far , so good", he whispered to himself, " Now for the big times 
ahead," he quickly slipped the gear into first and drove off quickly.. 

At the post office, he took out the key given to him by the
conspirators, located the designated box, inserted the key, then turned 
it quickly. The explosion that followed shook the little post office to 
its rafters. The assassin never knew what hit him as he was blown to 
bits by the explosives. 

Later that night, in a well protected mansion on the outskirts of the
city, three well dressed men sat around a coffee table discussing the 
main event of the day. 

"And now a toast to a job well done!,” said the Host cheerfully, a broad
smile spreading across his dark face .He took up the champagne bottle 
and poured a drink into each man's glass, raised his own glass in a 
toast and said” “To the death of an evil war monger, crazy bastard “, 
He smirked then added,”No longer will innocent lives be lost because of 
his crazy, misguided notions!”. The two other conspirators agreed with 
broad smiles, thinking about their future posts in the new 
administration the Vice President had promised them for their 
cooperation in getting rid of the crazy President. 

They downed their drinks with a flourish... Suddenly, they both grasped
their throats, expressions of total disbelief and shock crossed their 
faces. They began convulsing instantly from the cyanide laced drink 
they took. Unfortunately, they had failed to notice that their host had 
not downed his drink. They fell to the ground gasping and began 
squirming in their death throes. The host, a sardonic smile still on 
his face walked over to the now stiffening corpses. “Dead men tell no 
tales”. He said scornfully He then went across the room to the 
telephone and dial a special number. After a short while, a voice came 
over saying," Who is it?" "It's me, sir " "How did it go?"said the Vice 
President evenly. "Perfect, just as planned, sir' replied the host, 
visualizing his place in the new administration. "Okay, now go out on 
the balcony, I ‘have a big surprise for you," "Right away, Sir," He 
said eagerly. “No problem, Ken, “replied the voice and the line went 
dead. The host made his way to the balcony and the last thing he heard 
was the crack of a rifle. The bullet shattered his breast plate and he 
was dead even before he hit the ground.,a look of shock surprise and 
disbelief on his face.. 


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