As students at the dawn of a brand new century, we face certain choices: how do we prepare for the future?
Melody Powers knew how she was going to prepare. As she checked the fit one more time on her tooled leather shoulder holster, she thought about all the Communists she'd be taking out tonight. Melody harbored now illusions about unilaterally stemming the resurging red tide. But, she reflected with a grim smile, what special agent could resist the opportunity to fill a few Bolshevik cemeteries?
As Melody sunbathed on the Rio beach, she looked back upon the last few days with a certain quiet satisfaction: 12 dead Russians, 5 dead Chinese, and 3 or four dead Cubans. The world was once again safe for democracy, she reflected, while watching Antonio's exquisite chest rise and fall with his light snoring. Safe for democracy, or almost safe. Melody brushed some arid grains of sand off her fingers, tied her top back on, and reached into her beach bag. Antonio heard nothing, and that was a pity because he would never hear anything again.
"So long 'tonio", she though as she calmly stood up. I could of loved you if you weren't as red as the blood stain spreading across the sand. Melody walked calmly away toward the hotel. There'd be a message there from HQ, no doubt. She just hoped she had time for a shower.