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Martin's the Bomb
While the elevator lifted the three men to the thirtieth floor, Hank, the bomb squad leader, lit a cigarette and took a large puff. A smaller man with glasses gave a small cough feeling slightly irritated with Hank's rudeness. "Okay boys, this one's a doozy. Apparently this fellow up here is strapped with, oh what did it say Leonard?" The man with glasses adjusted them slightly adding, "Twelve pounds of C4, sir." Hank waved his cig toward four-eyes saying, "That's it, yeah, and the building has been evacuated so there shouldn't be any distractions." His cigarette lit up as he inhaled more of its toxins only to share it with his comrades against their will. Hank noticed something out of the corner of his eye; it was Steve, the new guy raising his hand for a question.
"Sir, sir, sir," the young lad waved his hand impatiently in the air as Hank only sighed stating, "I swear to the kind lord if you ask me about where we're eating after this." Steve kept his arm high but gradually brought it back down almost as though he did not expect Hank to acknowledge him or at least so brutally. Dejectedly, he stared at the carpeted floor as it was an honest and simple question that he wanted answered. Their ride stopped as the door opened with a cheerful ring presenting a man in a suit tied to an office chair. "Citizen," the man looked up as Hank breathed smoke like a volcano then added when it cleared, "I am Sergeant Hank Garrets with the bomb squad; we're here to help you."
The man gave a sound of relief shouting, "Thank you! Oh my, I'm so glad to see you!" Hank pointed at the explosives on the business man's chest telling Steve to investigate it. With a goofy grin, he moved over to the man and gently popped the front of the dangerous device off to inspect its interior. Inside was a digital counter showing that they had roughly six minutes to help the innocent civilian. "Hey," Hank called out diverting the man with the ugly tie, "What's your name? I don't feel like calling you citizen the whole time." Stuttering he replied, "It's Martin."
"Ok, Martin, Steve is going to start checking out what's making your friend there tick so just, ah, just sit tight." Hank never was good with words yet he had a job where he needed to console people rather frequently. The recently met Martin did not approve of his supposed savior's choice of words. They were greatly unsettling, but Steve said something that made his heart stop momentarily. "Uh oh," Steve said leaning away from the bomb, "I don't know what to do here." The other two squad men looked at one another then back at the rookie who stared blankly at the wiring. Leonard's eyes were large in his thick spectacles already but with them widening with concern they looked even bigger. With his nasally voice, he asked, "What's wrong Steve?" Still ogling the explosive, the rookie said, "I don't know what to do here."
His squad leader gave a grunt then dropped the dying cig to stomp it out. "What's wrong rook? Just remember training," Steve peered over his shoulder as Hank finished, "Cut the red, you're probably dead. Snip the blue, safety for you. Chop the yellow, goodbye kind fellow." Hank was about to say another but Martin interrupted in a scared manner, "Guys, please, I don't want to hear that kind of stuff!" Steve shook his head then kindly said, "Don't worry buddy, everything's cool, it's just," he turned to Leonard, "What do you do for black and white?"
Leonard quickly walked over to see what Steve was informing him about as he had never been taught what to do in such a situation. "See, weird right?" Steve said as Leonard dropped to one knee. His spectacles slid down his nose a tiny then after one glance at the bomb he frowned. "Ah Steve?" the rookie turned and said nothing, "How on earth did you pass the courses when clearly you are color blind?" Hank for the first time coughed on his smoke with this newest bit of knowledge. Steve rested his chin on his hand thinking, replying, "Well, I kind of guessed on the tests." Martin groaned realizing he had little to no hope of seeing his wife and kid. Hank rushed over and divided them like Moses parting the Red Sea to view the bomb. "Steve," Leonard started trying to sound kind, "Why would you even try to get into this type of profession?" Steve shrugged replying, "Well painting wasn't getting me anywhere."
"Guys, we have a larger problem," Hank angrily said pointing at the bomb with his recently lit cigarette, "Look at the colors… except you Steve." Feeling put down like in the elevator, Steve's head depressingly returned to the floor as he then walked away. While he wandered off, the other two looked at the wires which were yellow, red and green. "Hank, what's wrong with green?" The leader toyed with the priers in his hand whispering, "Sever the green, this won't be clean." "Please, for the love of god, don't say these things next to me!" they looked up at Martin's sweating face of fear and anger as he shouted, "I just want to go home! Please, just get rid of it!" Hank hated this the most, the panicking hostage. He exhaled a massive amount of deathly fumes in Martin's face showing hardly any care replying coldly, "Hey, work with me or you're going to be like dove in a microwave too long." The hostage nodded then apologized but really it should have been the other way around.
Returning to focus at the task at hand, they noticed they had only three more minutes to get this job done correctly. His tool shook frantically as Hank reached for the group of wires trying to make a decision. The priers skipped among the three colors as a drop of sweat slithered down his forehead and off his nose. Gulping, he was about to cut the yellow wire when Steve said, "Can we hurry, I'm getting hungry." Hank lost focus and any sense of kindness toward the rookie. He hurled the tool at the ground with frustration standing up to look at Steve who sat with his back to the wall. He was making shadow puppets on the ceiling with his miniature flashlight lying in his crossed legs pointing upward. Gripping his glasses, Leonard reached for Hank to stop him but he was determined to discipline his headache. Steve, looking at the ceiling, smirked at the shadow chuckling, "Look Sergeant, I made a doggie."
Hank's gloved hand clutched the puppeteer's vest, smashing him against the wall yelling, "What is wrong with you? How short is the bus you ride kid?" His lecture was falling on deaf ears though as something wowed Steve's feeble mind. It was a white cat with gray patches, and it was waltzing toward Martin who was on the brink of tears with his helpers having done nothing to aide him. "Look a cat!" Steve naively said making Hank hit him against the wall again with more force shouting, "I don't care about your puppets Steve!" The victim of bullying shook his head and pointed at the cat which made the other two squad men look. Lo and behold, it was indeed a cat licking its paw which it then rubbed its eye with.
"Odd, why would there be a cat in a facility like this?" Leonard questioned watching the cat with great interest. It suddenly hopped on Martin's lap making him smile a bit saying, "Hey little guy, you got a name?" Steve was still in Hank's hate filled grip as he baby talked, "Oh, you going to help us with that?" The cat did just that, it extended a claw and cut the green wire making everyone scream "No!" with shock of its boldness. Dropping Steve, Hank charged toward the bomb scaring the cat which ran for the idiot puppeteer. Leonard followed Hank over to see the digital counter was counting down even faster than before. "What's wrong? What's wrong?" Martin shouted no longer having compassion for the feline Steve was holding. "The counter is moving faster because of that…" Hank halted his speech trying to figure out what to do next to try and save this man's life. "Sir, we're running out of time, may I make a suggestion?" Hank did not face him as he frustratingly hollered, "Yes, what is it?"
Glass fragments flew over the streets of New York as Martin was wheeled through a window on the thirtieth floor. Martin was kicking and cursing the whole way down as the failure of a bomb squad was already back in the lift taking it down to the lobby. They were quiet as the soothing music played in their ride downstairs safely, unlike Martin's trip. Steve was petting the cat that caused this situation when they all heard a distant, muffled boom sound. He then stuttered a few moments later, "That, ah, that was probably Martin." Hank pulled out his box of cigarettes agreeing, "Yup," then hit it on his opposite hand a few times so it would spit out his cancer stick. "Well," Steve began cheerfully, "at least the chief's an understanding guy." Leonard cleared his throat and Hank looked away making Steve question, "Right?"
"What in the heck is wrong with you three?" The chief pounded his hands on his oak desk with tremendous force making Leonard jump. "Sir, did you read my report?" Hank asked but that only put gas in the fire. "Oh what," the chief scrunched up his face then revealed a batch of papers that was Hank's report, "You mean this trash?" He then threw the depressing report in the squad leader's face and sat down. The chief fell back in his chair, grazing his hand across his bald head sighing, "What were you three thinking? Throwing an innocent man wired to twelve pounds of C4 out of a window that was thirty stories up." Steve scratched the cat's chin saying, "Well, if it means anything," He pointed at Leonard, "it was his idea." Leonard gave a betrayed look to Steve who merely shrugged then went back to the purring cat.
"Great, now you guys are pointing fingers at one another, unbelievable and get rid of that cat Steve!" Stupidly, he replied, "Where sir?" The chief leaned forward pointing at the window sarcastically saying, "I don't know moron, how about the window as it worked so well last time." Readjusting himself in his seat, Hank cleared his throat and presented the papers to the chief once more stating, "Sir, it is my personal belief that we did a good job." The bearded man froze, and then chuckled with surprise, "You really think so?" Hank looked at his men and nodded in unison making the chief give a moan of disappointment. "Smith Street is covered in Martin," Hank quickly replied, "But the buildings don't have a scratch on them, only bits of Martin." Chief pointed his meaty finger at the sleek, white cat still in Steve's lap, "You blamed that cat for this situation." "Because it cut the green wire with its claw making the counter go faster." The Chief then bellowed, "He had a wife and kid." Hank threw his hands in the air as carelessly as his tone of voice saying, "So I'll send some flowers and a 'Sorry, your dad exploded' card." Both fell back in their chairs however, the chief was absolutely astonished with Hank being so 'whatever' about the incident. Steve leaned in on Hank whispering a bit too loudly, "I know this little gift store that has a card that when you open it, it plays Pop Goes the Weasel." His squad leader gave a face of agreement with a bob of the head, but the chief exploded with rage.
"You're going to that funeral!" All the men groaned yelling various words of disagreement, but Hank stood out with his whiny, "Aw, Why?" "Why?" The chief repeated in a manner that frightened them, "Because you're the reason he's dead!" Steve dimwittedly argued, "Actually, the bomb killed him, not us." Chief became as red as that wire they should have cut earlier in the day. He was fuming enough so that they probably could have cooked breakfast on his bald head. Hank crossed his arms and informed the chief boldly, "We're not going to the funeral because we didn't do anything wrong."
The three of them stood outside the bureau with little cardboard boxes holding all their office materials. Steve's was overflowing as it had the cat inside which was smacking a Mr. T bobble head with its paw. Tears rolled down Leonard's cheeks as he snorted a massive and disgusting piece of snot back into his left nostril. Their leader, until moments ago, stood in the middle with a somewhat bewildered look on his face. Hank turned to look at Steve who was telling his new cat, "It's cool little buddy, you can come back to my apartment as I start painting again." Hank then turned to Leonard whose sobbing became even worse as he thought about himself losing his job. Hank then stared at his box of supplies honestly saying, "I can't believe he fired us."