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Old 24-03-2005, 05:42 AM   #6
Join Date: Mar 2005
Posts: 35

Keira searched her pockets for something for the president to sign, but it was all a moot point. A sharp whistle-hiss sound filled the air and eyes looked up in time to see a supersonic tailed lozenge slam the rear Suburban’s side. Instantly, an explosion filled the air and the large SUV was tossed into the air and pitched into the ground like child’s Matchbox toy car. Many people, including Knightley, were knocked down by the shockwave.

A distant, yet quickly closing, voice boomed, “HEIL HITLER! TÖTEN SIE DEN PRÄSIDENTEN!”

Rapid-fire gunshots sounded and two of Sparrow’s scrambling bodyguards were cut down. The third bodyguard, slightly staggered from the explosion, shoved Sparrow to the ground beside the slightly scorched sedan.

With the explosion and the gunshots, Sparrow’s oh so loyal supporters, even the gentile elderly lady, were moving as fast as they could from the scene.

Righting herself quickly, Keira saw that her dear friend Natalie was with this fleeing crowd; in her case, yelling, “Keira, come on!” She saw the third, and only living, bodyguard bringing his M4 carbine up to fire, but he too was cut down, expunged blood spatter Knightley as he fell.

Sparrow, his face showing terror, was moving backwards quickly, assuming his death was upon him. The two motorcycle cops were dead and so was his driver. Keira, stunned by all the blood and violence, looked at the once proud president. Whatever kind of man and leader he was, Sparrow didn’t deserve to get gunned down by a bunch of fasciste thugs.

Without giving it another thought, Keira, moving quickly, climbed over the steel barrier and seized the dead bodyguard’s assault rifle. The nearest thug rounded the smoldering hulk of the Suburban, his Ingram MAC-10 at the ready.

She squeezed the trigger and split second before he did and the enemy did a macabre dance that ended with him plastered to the roadway. A second terrorist followed the first, but he fared no better.

Sirens rang in the distance and no more terrorist gunfire. Keira Knightley, almost in shock from killing two mortal enemies, turned and looked at President Sparrow, who now seemed almost boisterous, “I don’t know who you are, but you’ll get a medal for this. Anything you want…”

A flaring of his eyes cut him off and Keira looked in the direction Sparrow was staring, a third neo-Nazi (the one who had manned the rocket launcher) had snuck around the dead Suburban and now held a World War II-era Luger P-08 pistol, “Auf Wiedersehen.”

Staring at the raised pistol and manic eyes, Keira Knightley did something that she never in a million years thought she’d be called on to do. The thug’s finger closed around the trigger and he smiled smugly. In milliseconds, her brain told her that even if she got off a shot, the enemy would still get President Sparrow.

She leapt to the side, her body shielding the president as the trigger was pulled. The bullet entered Knightley’s chest area but glanced off a rib, shattering it. She fell to the ground, choked tears of pain glistening in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks.

The terrorist pulled the trigger again and again, but the old Luger had jammed. That was the fatal flaw to the German gun, its firing pin and ejector were designed such that it could jam often.

He slammed his palm against the top of the Luger, trying to un-jam it. In that time, in one fell move, Sparrow reached down and grabbed the M4 out of Keira’s arms and lifted it, looking in the fasciste’s eyes as he pulled the trigger and a rapid stream of bullets slammed his body to the ground. The Luger flew from his hands and clattered onto the pavement.

By now, the sirens were very near and VCPD patrol cars zoomed up to the scene, officers shouting into their radios for assistance. Ambulances and fire trucks were already en route.

It was over.


“Good evening ladies and gentleman, this is Amy Peters reporting live for the Federal News Network. We have late breaking news on this hour. Fascist terrorists have attacked President Matthew Harrington Sparrow, our glorious leader. Already, security forces are rounding up and interrogating every former and current member of any Neo-Nazi organizations.

“The assassination attempt was thwarted due to the brave actions of Keira Knightley, an actress from the Republic of Hollywood. Already, rumors are spreading that President Sparrow will award her the Presidential Commendation for Actions of Supreme Bravery and Honor, the highest award a civilian can receive for meritorious valor in combat…”

Keira Knightley, her chest throbbing, flicked the television off with the remote control and sat up in her hospital bed. She should have been excited about the award, but she wasn’t. The doctors had given her heavy painkillers for her chest wound, after emergency surgery the bullet of course, but every few minutes a sharp jolt of pain overrode them and bit her lip not to scream. Even now, she had no shirt on; instead, a bandage had been wrapped around her breasts, but below her armpits, to keep the wounded part of her body immobile.

Currently, she occupied a VIP room in the Hôpital Fédéral De Conduite, one of the UAF’s top medical centers, available to only the upper echelons of the Federation. Her room was painted a calming light blue color and several vases of fresh flowers were delicately set in opportune places. The sheets in her bed were silken and the television she had been watching had been one of those brand-new plasmas. She had been told that a pair of FSF agents stood guard outside the room.

The solid oak door opened and, expecting a doctor or nurse, Keira was surprised when her dear friend Natalie Portman entered, the worried look on her face dissipating as she saw that her friend was relatively okay.

Cutting right to the chase, she said, “Keira, what on earth were you thinking? Taking a bullet in the chest for him? You could’ve been killed!”

Knightley sighed loudly, trying to hold tears back, “Well what was I supposed to do? They were going to kill him! I don’t care what they say about him, he didn’t deserve to die like that!”

Realizing that maybe she had been too harsh, Natalie sat down on the edge of the bed next to Keira, “I’m sorry, its just I was afraid you might be killed. As it stands, you may be here for quite awhile, waiting for that wound to heal.”

Keira nodded, “I know, I know. I wonder if…”

Natalie looked sharply at her friend, “If what?”

“Well, the president owes me his life, doesn’t he?”

Upon seeing the slightly mischievous glint in her eyes, Natalie glared at Knightley, “Don’t even think about it? He’s a damn president, not some college playboy.”

“He is nineteen, isn’t he? Well…”

“Forget about the whole thing. The last thing I need is for you to start an international incident…”

Keira made the typically indignant harrumph noise, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, dear, that if you ask President Sparrow out on a date, first, he’ll bill you in full for this hospital stay, and second, he’ll boot our asses right of the country. Finally, he’ll send a condemnation to Depp for the perversity of his representatives. Therefore, keep your eyes off the president or anyone in his staff.”

Another harrumph and then, “Fine, whatever you say.”

“I mean it Keira…”

Knightley had every intention of asking Sparrow out, after all, he owed her and she had no use for Federal moneys or ranks or rewards.

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