This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
October 31, 1471
Gold Coast
Simon Jahaz gripped a long bludgeon while limping towards the remaining seven men now surrounding Mr. Hanks . Cursing beneath his breath for allowing his enemy to sprain his left ankle during battle, the most wanted time manipulator tactically engaged the mercenaries from the future.
Having lost all the men dispatched from King Sunni Ali Ber, Jahaz, so far, had killed one of the original eight-man back up team. Time was ticking away, and any minute now Mr. Hanks would be the first to automatically slingshot back to the year 2137 with mercs holding the line until it was their respective turn to jump into that blue temporal worm hole.
“Kwabena, you’ve got to stop him,” Jahaz jerked his head back to a wounded warrior, whispering his dying words in Twi. Jahaz silently nodded, then continued his rapid hunt.
Elapsed Mission Time: 1 Minute, 9 seconds
“Take him alive,” Mr. Hanks ordered his men.
“Arrggh!” Simon Jahaz swung his bludgeon into the face of another mercenary, forcing him to drop his pulse rifle. Knowing his battle cry alerted the rest of them, he quickly hid in the nearby bush.
“My mission clock’s about to hit zero,” Mr.
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Hanks said to the two mercenaries shielding him.
“Our orders were to safely recover you, sir,” one of them replied.
“Well, now you’re getting orders from me, innit?” Mr. Hanks snarled. “Just capture the bloody wanka alive.”
BANG!
Simon Jahaz fired the pulse rifle at another mercenary, leaving a burning hole inside his chest. Before he could run past, the now deceased soldier of fortune vanished into a black cloud of smoke, that instant return trip home to the future.
“Get him!” Mr. Hanks felt the blue light emitting around his body.
“Nuh-uh, man,” Jahaz leaped onto Hanks, wrapping his left arm around his waist.
Both of them shared the bright ride through the wormhole while cursing and fighting each other.
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Then their action froze as they became part of the blue light, hurling them forward in time 666 years.
March 21, 2137
Covert Operations Base, Ghana
The sudden reentry from the wormhole jolted Simon Jahaz and Mr. Hanks free of each other’s hateful embrace. Jahaz slowly stood up as he smelled the roaring Atlantic ocean, leaving a slight metallic taste inside his mouth.
“I’m back,” Jahaz scanned his immediate area, confirming things hadn’t changed. . . yet.
“You’ve failed,” Hanks stood up rubbing his bruised throat.
“Everything in due time,” Jahaz felt the sting of a sprained ankle.
“But we’re both still here.”Hanks winced in aching pain from a broken arm. “Our present hasn’t been altered.”
“Except I can return anytime I please—” Jahaz blacked out unconscious from a strike to the back of his skull. No doubt, Hanks’ remaining 5 mercenaries just jumped back to present day Ghana.
Under the Knife
“Open your eyes, Simon,” Mr. Hanks said. “Because I know you can hear me.” His somber tone matched that of the low hum of the flying shuttle used for mobile interrogation.
“‘Sup, Hanks?” Simon Jahaz squinted from the bright overhead lights.
“You know the drill.”
“Torture time.”
“You piggybacking onto my wormhole was a fatal mistake.”
“Is that so now?”
“Got a surgical team in prep as we speak.”
“Let me spare you from wasting your time,” Jahaz said. “It’s wrapped around my spine.”
“And?”
“I know you don’t give a rat’s ass about crippling me, but—”
“Oh, you’ve got that right.”
“But you’ll be solely responsible for the radioactive fallout.”
A pause from Mr. Hanks as he caressed his air splint cast
“How’s the arm, soldier?” Jahaz smirked.
“So, you’re telling me that mini tumbler’s nuclear?”
“I’m telling you if you try to cut it out of me, it’s boom.”
“Regardless, you’re going under the knife.”
“Not even laser precision cutting will do the job.”
“Bollocks.”
“I shit you not, my friend.”
“I’m not your bleedin’ friend.” Hanks stepped back a bit to contact Mammoth Corporate Office.
“Give them my love.”
“Piss off.”
Jahaz watched Hanks dim the bright overhead lights, then touch the side of his neck, activating his concealed throat mic.
“Eco One Leader to Command,” Hanks broadcast. “Come in Home Office. Be advised, we may have a problem.
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”
March 22, 2137
Sector 13 of the Former United States
Simon Jahaz felt the ship’s abrupt stop. He heard Mr. Hanks communicating with the pilots.
“Well, here we are,” Hanks wore a shit-eating grin.
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“Home, sweet home.”
“You fuck, you,” Jahaz felt his heart thump in a combined anger-fear rhythm.
“Sector Thirteen,” Hanks activated the hologram monitor. “Or what use to be Washington, D.C.”
“Not taking any chances, huh?”
“What better place to perform surgery than this Third World shithole of a country?”
“It still won’t work.”
“Then give us the people who developed that time tumbler, embedded it around your spinal cord.”
“Fuck you, Hanks.”
“Oh, no, fuck you.”
To be continued in A SIMON JAHAZ TALE EPISODE 6. . .
Copyright 2019
Based on the eNovella “Etched in Memory,” of Rising Tales, Vol. 1, “Any Minute Now,” Episode 5 of a Simon Jahaz Tale, is a NEW multipart eSeries SOLELY FOR THE NEGROMANOSPHERE.
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