Topless Agenda by Lyle Christie

Author:Lyle Christie [Christie, Lyle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949386011
Publisher: Lyle Christie
Published: 2013-10-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Not So Great Escape

IRONY WAS A cruel mistress, which I realized the moment I opened the door and stepped outside and saw, to my horror, one of our bearded menaces lying in wait only a short distance away. The unusual, though fortunate, thing was that he wasn’t facing the house at the moment but was, in fact, facing a tall hedge. His hands were out of view holding what I suspected was a far less effective weapon than the silenced Steyr AUG A3 submachine gun that was slung over his shoulder, and his range was no more than a couple feet at best depending on the state of his prostate. Our terrorist, by divine luck, was busy taking a piss and, obviously, hadn’t expected the people he came to kill to come walking out of the door directly behind him. Unfortunately, for our urinating terrorist, the human body often had uncontrollable responses to chaotic situations. During moments of stress, the urge to urinate was very common, so common, in fact, that police routinely checked bathrooms at a crime scene because the perpetrators, more often than not, peed during the course of their illegal activities and unwittingly left either prints or DNA evidence behind in the least likely of places. So, here we were—stuck watching a trained jihadist desecrate Babs’s fine hedge, while I tried to figure out the best way to deal with the bearded intruder.

Noise was a key issue as well as letting him finish before I acted. If I got close and spooked him, he might turn around and pee on me. The only thing worse than being pissed off was being pissed on, and I’d already taken my shower today and certainly wasn’t going to follow it up with anything golden. It also seemed like dirty pool to hit a man at a moment like this, and I’d rather take him down man-to-man, not man-to-man with his penis in his hands. Sadly, I had an experience very similar to this in Afghanistan ten years ago, and it hadn’t ended very well for the other guy and still haunted me to this day. The night I had rescued my esteemed friend John from his downed helicopter, we had stumbled upon a Taliban fighter taking a number two, and I was forced to rudely interrupt his dump and knock him the fuck out in order to keep him from alerting his friends. It went against everything I had ever held sacred about taking a shit and, worst of all, violated the International Accord on Bathroom Etiquette that was ratified in 1902 in Geneva Switzerland. Even the Nazis, the ultimate perpetrators of evil, had a strict code when it came to invading certain matters of personal privacy, although their particular eccentricity didn’t concern bathroom etiquette. Their issue was sex—so much so, in fact, that they would never barge in on a suspected spy if they thought he or she was in the process of getting busy and would instead wait patiently until their target finished his or her business.

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