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Kartomga Terror Pit

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Wragg134 said:
The Brits get there first.

"I say, look here, General, this is terribly bad form, don't you know? Have you completely forgotten the sub clauses in article 17 of the International convention of human rights where it distinctly says.....drone....drone....drone.....drone...."

:BoredSmiley:

While he's asleep, the Belgians and the French can do the bizz! ;)
Click to expand...

chef.gif

Very poor definition, I'm sorry. But it says:
'All of them are stupid, and I'm their leader ! '
:D
 
Loxuru said:
Do not bother about kerosine. These old Flying Boxcars even fly on used frying oil. It should not be a problem to find plenty amounts of that in Belgium.
View attachment 411579

Assembling the troops from their present duties, that will be the problem.
View attachment 411581
Click to expand...

Oh no, not for the Commandos, here. The prospect of having battle certainly appeals to them. And in this case, flying to the rescue of a sexy young woman... We had to decline volontaries... :rolleyes:
 
11. Food, water, and exhaustion combine to give me release after two full days of pain and suffering in Kartomga's infamous "Terror Pit." I fall into a deep sleep sprawled naked on the floor of my cell. They don't even bother to bind my hands or feet.

Morning, however, has brought a new terror to my consciousness. I am to be executed today!

They said it would be public ... horror enough in that alone! But they neglected to say how!

My mind swirls around the possibilities. They could do anything ... the brutality shown toward their own citizens, which I have seen and attempted to record on camera is evidence enough of that!

Boots in the corridor. They are coming for me already. I struggle to my feet. My body aches. I want to meet them head on ... with whatever dignity I can muster.

It's Captain Abunjon. He appears to be alone.

"It's time Ms. Moore," he states simply and quietly as he unlocks the door and glides into the cell. "Extend your wrists please, I need to bind them."

For the first time I study his face closely as he ties my wrists together with one end of a length of rope. Somehow he looks familiar to me, and I realize that he has dropped his heavy accent!

"Where are you taking me? How will it happen?" I ask, my voice quavering and my knees feeling weak.

"Out on the streets, and you will see soon enough," he answers curtly, pulling tight on the knot he has tied until I grimace in pain.

"Wait I know you," I murmur almost inaudibly, adding a bit more loudly, "I've seen you somewhere. Was it Damascus? Istanbul? Somewhere."

"No, you don't know me!" he replies sharply, shoving me towards the cell door.

"I think I do! You're CIA too, aren't you! We are on the same side! You aren't going to execute me; you are going to help me escape!"

"No, Moore. Don't flatter yourself. There will be no rescue. You are a sacrificial pawn in a much larger game ... your ordeal is all part of a master plan to make my cover here complete. Now shut up, and do your duty Moore! Move your ass! Let's go!"

Grabbing the loose end of the rope, he leads me down the corridor, up the stairs and out of the building. His red pickup is waiting, along with a sizable crowd lining both sides of the street.

The Captain ties his end of the rope to the rear bumper of the truck and clambers aboard. The driver guns the engine. The truck lurches forward. The slack in the rope disappears, and I stumble ahead, pulled along by my bound wrists.

Barbaria Africa 079.jpg

The crowd comes alive as I am paraded nude through the streets of Kartomga City. Everywhere I am loudly and vociferously jeered. Many are screaming hateful anti-American slogans, others are chanting my name. Someone has gotten the crowd's blood lust up!

Barbaria Africa 080.jpg

The Captain rides high, like a conquering hero, as I trail behind ... trying hard not to lose my footing.

Barbaria Africa 081.jpg

The sheer depth of my betrayal strikes home. I am going to die! For what? I will never know! My eyes flood with tears.

The size of the angry crowd grows by the minute. My naked humiliation is being recorded thousands of times on cell phone cameras. This will surely go viral.

Barbaria Africa 082.jpg

It gets uglier and uglier. They are throwing things at me now as I pass by. I am struck on the side of my head by a rock. Broken bottles and other debris 0n the street mark my passage.

Barbaria Africa 083.jpg

At last we reach our destination ... a large square. In the center of the square stands a bright yellow construction lift crane. The pickup pulls up alongside it. The Captain jumps down, takes me by the arm and guides me into the waiting lift box.

Barbaria Africa 084.jpg

"What's going on?" I cry.

Barbaria Africa 085.jpg

"You'll find out soon enough, Moore. Sorry to have to do this to you. Pity. In another time and place we might have been friends."

The lift springs into life, carrying the Captain and me up and over the teeming, jostling crowd below.

Barbaria Africa 086.jpg

The square reverberates with the sound of thousands of voices shouting, "Death to America ... Death to Barbara Moore!"
 
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Barbaria1 said:
11. Food, water, and exhaustion combine to give me release after two full days of pain and suffering in Kartomga's infamous "Terror Pit." I fall into a deep sleep sprawled naked on the floor of my cell. They don't even bother to bind my hands or feet.


The lift springs into life, carrying the Captain and me up and over the teeming, jostling crowd below.

View attachment 412440

The square reverberates with the sound of thousands of voices shouting, "Death to America ... Death to Barbara Moore!"
Click to expand...
Good filenames!!!
 
Barbaria1 said:
11. Food, water, and exhaustion combine to give me release after two full days of pain and suffering in Kartomga's infamous "Terror Pit." I fall into a deep sleep sprawled naked on the floor of my cell. They don't even bother to bind my hands or feet.

Morning, however, has brought a new terror to my consciousness. I am to be executed today!

They said it would be public ... horror enough in that alone! But they neglected to say how!

My mind swirls around the possibilities. They could do anything ... the brutality shown toward their own citizens, which I have seen and attempted to record on camera is evidence enough of that!

Boots in the corridor. They are coming for me already. I struggle to my feet. My body aches. I want to meet them head on ... with whatever dignity I can muster.

It's Captain Abunjon. He appears to be alone.

"It's time Ms. Moore," he states simply and quietly as he unlocks the door and glides into the cell. "Extend your wrists please, I need to bind them."

For the first time I study his face closely as he ties my wrists together with one end of a length of rope. Somehow he looks familiar to me, and I realize that he has dropped his heavy accent!

"Where are you taking me? How will it happen?" I ask, my voice quavering and my knees feeling weak.

"Out on the streets, and you will see soon enough," he answers curtly, pulling tight on the knot he has tied until I grimace in pain.

"Wait I know you," I murmur almost inaudibly, adding a bit more loudly, "I've seen you somewhere. Was it Damascus? Istanbul? Somewhere."

"No, you don't know me!" he replies sharply, shoving me towards the cell door.

"I think I do! You're CIA too, aren't you! We are on the same side! You aren't going to execute me; you are going to help me escape!"

"No, Moore. Don't flatter yourself. There will be no rescue. You are a sacrificial pawn in a much larger game ... your ordeal is all part of a master plan to make my cover here complete. Now shut up, and do your duty Moore! Move your ass! Let's go!"

Grabbing the loose end of the rope, he leads me down the corridor, up the stairs and out of the building. His red pickup is waiting, along with a sizable crowd lining both sides of the street.

The Captain ties his end of the rope to the rear bumper of the truck and clambers aboard. The driver guns the engine. The truck lurches forward. The slack in the rope disappears, and I stumble ahead, pulled along by my bound wrists.

View attachment 412433

The crowd comes alive as I am paraded nude through the streets of Kartomga City. Everywhere I am loudly and vociferously jeered. Many are screaming hateful anti-American slogans, others are chanting my name. Someone has gotten the crowd's blood lust up!

View attachment 412434

The Captain rides high, like a conquering hero, as I trail behind ... trying hard not to lose my footing.

View attachment 412435

The sheer depth of my betrayal strikes home. I am going to die! For what? I will never know! My eyes flood with tears.

The size of the angry crowd grows by the minute. My naked humiliation is being recorded thousands of times on cell phone cameras. This will surely go viral.

View attachment 412436

It gets uglier and uglier. They are throwing things at me now as I pass by. I am struck on the side of my head by a rock. Broken bottles and other debris 0n the street mark my passage.

View attachment 412437

At last we reach our destination ... a large square. In the center of the square stands a bright yellow construction lift crane. The pickup pulls up alongside it. The Captain jumps down, takes me by the arm and guides me into the waiting lift box.

View attachment 412438

"What's going on?" I cry.

View attachment 412439

"You'll find out soon enough, Moore. Sorry to have to do this to you. Pity. In another time and place we might have been friends."

The lift springs into life, carrying the Captain and me up and over the teeming, jostling crowd below.

View attachment 412440

The square reverberates with the sound of thousands of voices shouting, "Death to America ... Death to Barbara Moore!"
Click to expand...
bull and gunner 004.jpg
I should have known Tree was behind... or in front... of this...
 
Barbaria1 said:
11. Food, water, and exhaustion combine to give me release after two full days of pain and suffering in Kartomga's infamous "Terror Pit." I fall into a deep sleep sprawled naked on the floor of my cell. They don't even bother to bind my hands or feet.

Morning, however, has brought a new terror to my consciousness. I am to be executed today!

They said it would be public ... horror enough in that alone! But they neglected to say how!

My mind swirls around the possibilities. They could do anything ... the brutality shown toward their own citizens, which I have seen and attempted to record on camera is evidence enough of that!

Boots in the corridor. They are coming for me already. I struggle to my feet. My body aches. I want to meet them head on ... with whatever dignity I can muster.

It's Captain Abunjon. He appears to be alone.

"It's time Ms. Moore," he states simply and quietly as he unlocks the door and glides into the cell. "Extend your wrists please, I need to bind them."

For the first time I study his face closely as he ties my wrists together with one end of a length of rope. Somehow he looks familiar to me, and I realize that he has dropped his heavy accent!

"Where are you taking me? How will it happen?" I ask, my voice quavering and my knees feeling weak.

"Out on the streets, and you will see soon enough," he answers curtly, pulling tight on the knot he has tied until I grimace in pain.

"Wait I know you," I murmur almost inaudibly, adding a bit more loudly, "I've seen you somewhere. Was it Damascus? Istanbul? Somewhere."

"No, you don't know me!" he replies sharply, shoving me towards the cell door.

"I think I do! You're CIA too, aren't you! We are on the same side! You aren't going to execute me; you are going to help me escape!"

"No, Moore. Don't flatter yourself. There will be no rescue. You are a sacrificial pawn in a much larger game ... your ordeal is all part of a master plan to make my cover here complete. Now shut up, and do your duty Moore! Move your ass! Let's go!"

Grabbing the loose end of the rope, he leads me down the corridor, up the stairs and out of the building. His red pickup is waiting, along with a sizable crowd lining both sides of the street.

The Captain ties his end of the rope to the rear bumper of the truck and clambers aboard. The driver guns the engine. The truck lurches forward. The slack in the rope disappears, and I stumble ahead, pulled along by my bound wrists.

View attachment 412433

The crowd comes alive as I am paraded nude through the streets of Kartomga City. Everywhere I am loudly and vociferously jeered. Many are screaming hateful anti-American slogans, others are chanting my name. Someone has gotten the crowd's blood lust up!

View attachment 412434

The Captain rides high, like a conquering hero, as I trail behind ... trying hard not to lose my footing.

View attachment 412435

The sheer depth of my betrayal strikes home. I am going to die! For what? I will never know! My eyes flood with tears.

The size of the angry crowd grows by the minute. My naked humiliation is being recorded thousands of times on cell phone cameras. This will surely go viral.

View attachment 412436

It gets uglier and uglier. They are throwing things at me now as I pass by. I am struck on the side of my head by a rock. Broken bottles and other debris 0n the street mark my passage.

View attachment 412437

At last we reach our destination ... a large square. In the center of the square stands a bright yellow construction lift crane. The pickup pulls up alongside it. The Captain jumps down, takes me by the arm and guides me into the waiting lift box.

View attachment 412438

"What's going on?" I cry.

View attachment 412439

"You'll find out soon enough, Moore. Sorry to have to do this to you. Pity. In another time and place we might have been friends."

The lift springs into life, carrying the Captain and me up and over the teeming, jostling crowd below.

View attachment 412440

The square reverberates with the sound of thousands of voices shouting, "Death to America ... Death to Barbara Moore!"
Click to expand...
Oooh, I do like a little bit of pawn! :rolleyes::doh:

And what is this crane for? :confused:

"We'll find out, soon enough!" :eek:
 
I suspect there are donors to the... that foundation... whipping out American Express cards with combined higher limits than the government of Kartomga's GDP and they are the soul source of the rare metal 'unobtainia'...

The government even assembled the original members of the band 'Devo' to play one song... "Whip It"!!!

A good time was had by all... except Barb...
 
Barbaria1 said:
11. Food, water, and exhaustion combine to give me release after two full days of pain and suffering in Kartomga's infamous "Terror Pit." I fall into a deep sleep sprawled naked on the floor of my cell. They don't even bother to bind my hands or feet.

Morning, however, has brought a new terror to my consciousness. I am to be executed today!

They said it would be public ... horror enough in that alone! But they neglected to say how!

My mind swirls around the possibilities. They could do anything ... the brutality shown toward their own citizens, which I have seen and attempted to record on camera is evidence enough of that!

Boots in the corridor. They are coming for me already. I struggle to my feet. My body aches. I want to meet them head on ... with whatever dignity I can muster.

It's Captain Abunjon. He appears to be alone.

"It's time Ms. Moore," he states simply and quietly as he unlocks the door and glides into the cell. "Extend your wrists please, I need to bind them."

For the first time I study his face closely as he ties my wrists together with one end of a length of rope. Somehow he looks familiar to me, and I realize that he has dropped his heavy accent!

"Where are you taking me? How will it happen?" I ask, my voice quavering and my knees feeling weak.

"Out on the streets, and you will see soon enough," he answers curtly, pulling tight on the knot he has tied until I grimace in pain.

"Wait I know you," I murmur almost inaudibly, adding a bit more loudly, "I've seen you somewhere. Was it Damascus? Istanbul? Somewhere."

"No, you don't know me!" he replies sharply, shoving me towards the cell door.

"I think I do! You're CIA too, aren't you! We are on the same side! You aren't going to execute me; you are going to help me escape!"

"No, Moore. Don't flatter yourself. There will be no rescue. You are a sacrificial pawn in a much larger game ... your ordeal is all part of a master plan to make my cover here complete. Now shut up, and do your duty Moore! Move your ass! Let's go!"

Grabbing the loose end of the rope, he leads me down the corridor, up the stairs and out of the building. His red pickup is waiting, along with a sizable crowd lining both sides of the street.

The Captain ties his end of the rope to the rear bumper of the truck and clambers aboard. The driver guns the engine. The truck lurches forward. The slack in the rope disappears, and I stumble ahead, pulled along by my bound wrists.

View attachment 412433

The crowd comes alive as I am paraded nude through the streets of Kartomga City. Everywhere I am loudly and vociferously jeered. Many are screaming hateful anti-American slogans, others are chanting my name. Someone has gotten the crowd's blood lust up!

View attachment 412434

The Captain rides high, like a conquering hero, as I trail behind ... trying hard not to lose my footing.

View attachment 412435

The sheer depth of my betrayal strikes home. I am going to die! For what? I will never know! My eyes flood with tears.

The size of the angry crowd grows by the minute. My naked humiliation is being recorded thousands of times on cell phone cameras. This will surely go viral.

View attachment 412436

It gets uglier and uglier. They are throwing things at me now as I pass by. I am struck on the side of my head by a rock. Broken bottles and other debris 0n the street mark my passage.

View attachment 412437

At last we reach our destination ... a large square. In the center of the square stands a bright yellow construction lift crane. The pickup pulls up alongside it. The Captain jumps down, takes me by the arm and guides me into the waiting lift box.

View attachment 412438

"What's going on?" I cry.

View attachment 412439

"You'll find out soon enough, Moore. Sorry to have to do this to you. Pity. In another time and place we might have been friends."

The lift springs into life, carrying the Captain and me up and over the teeming, jostling crowd below.

View attachment 412440

The square reverberates with the sound of thousands of voices shouting, "Death to America ... Death to Barbara Moore!"
Click to expand...
Oh, no...
Betrayed!!:eek:
Marched nude through the the streets!!!:eek:
The crowd hurling rocks!!!:eek:
Holy Kartomga!!!
How will our heroine escape this....or will she.
Stay tuned,
Same time,
Same channel
:p

I do hope you are not afraid of heights Barb:eek:
 
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In the event of capture or the appearance of Salvador Dali ... the secretary will cross and uncross her legs and proceed with your expungement.

*Impossible Missions Act of 1966*
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LittleSiss said:
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In the event of capture or the appearance of Salvador Dali ... the secretary will cross and uncross her legs and proceed with your expungement.

*Impossible Missions Act of 1966*
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click to expand...

Expunge? Who me? Is that CIA-speak for "expendable, don't worry about her?" :confused:

Is that my handler speaking? Warning me of something I don't know. Telling me to stop overthinking and get on with it? Do or die? :rolleyes:
 
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