Small Packages stared down into the ravine through his binoculars. Payday moved sluggishly through the wilderness.
Captain Revolution said, “I don’t think Payday’s trap is working.”
The Defender tapped his chin. “Perhaps we should end this game.”
Small Packages stood on Skyscraper’s shoulders. Up here, he was eye level with the giants. Much better than talking to shins, that was for sure. “Want to come out of this vertical, Ruskie? Rule number one: never surprise Payday. That trigger-happy maniac could kill you thinking you were Dark Mystic.”
Captain Revolution shrugged. “I could stop him, myself. But his plan is sound. If it doesn’t work, it beats sitting around like Robinson Crusoe.”
The Empress sent him a smile while her eyes sneered. “Communists. You don’t think anything about using a woman as bait.”
“I’m sorry, your Highness. Didn’t I try and kill you as soon as we got here? Oh wait, it was you who tried to kill me. I didn’t think your exalted morals would allow it.”
“Someone has to take out the trash.”
Small Packages shook his head. Giants. “Of all the allies I could have, I get stuck with the United Nations. Look, Russia, China, Japan, I really don’t give a rip. Politics just stops us from doing the right thing. We’re fighting a war.”
“Lenin said, ‘Politics is war by other means,'” said Revolution.
The Defender frowned. “But like a Communist, he was simply stealing. Clausewitz said, ‘War is politics by other means.'”
Small Packages shook his head. “Okay, you guys want to debate Dark Mystic, go ahead. I’ll be sure to deliver the invitation. Come on, Skyscraper.” Those idiots could prattle on, but they were not losing Payday or Speed Skater.
Skyscraper took off with Small Packages still riding on his shoulder. The UN followed.
Continued…Next Monday
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