Clandestine rendezvous in Rose City
The acrid smell of smoke still hung in the air from the pitched battle to the east. The struggle, which began over a week ago, continued with one side practicing the "scorched earth" policy we've come to loath.
A Meetup was called to bring together operatives from Area PNW, part of the larger worldwide secret organization Caucus 99%.
As I approached the front patio, I sensed danger. A quick scan showed the entire patio filled with vicious guard dogs, their handlers holding them at bay with strong jewel encrusted leather straps, some in pink. No doubt a sign of the more elite of them.
I cautiously needle my way through them, trying to keep my distance while attempting to show no fear. But a brown labradoodle senses it in me and leaps forward, nearly licking my hand off. His handler reels him in with a pull of the plastic reel and eyes me suspiciously.
I quickly move to the front door to make safety.
The large barroom is filled with characters reminiscent of the movie Star Wars. Long legged green haired beauties conversed with short blue haired handsome young men. A crowd of tatooed young people, piercings glistening with precious metals, stood around a table filled with scrabble letters. A long line of quaffers stood in a queue, waiting to place their orders.
A scan of the room indicated no one here was paying me any attention.
The anonymous operatives were not in this room.
I move to a doorway leading to a room in the back where I find a group of older bespectacled bearded folks, dressed in various hippy attire of tiedye shirts, socks, and sandles.
They've drawn together a number of tables and laid out an enormous map of some European battlefield with which they move small pieces of military tanks, artillery, and soldiers. No doubt planning an invasion of some poor nation in Euroquistan.
They barely look up, but invite me to join in the exercises. I politely decline, adding that I'm too brutal on the battlefield and prone to war crimes. My people are not in this room.
I retrace my steps thinking I may have missed them coming in as a result of my stealthy moves past the dogs. I exit the Lucky Labrador Pub convinced I came too late. As I hurry through,a formidable looking Golden Lab leaps in my way a raises up on hinds and viciously laps at my face. Only my training and quick reflexes save me. I reach out and forcebly scratch her behind the ears. In the frenzy I see a hand go up and the secret sign is flashed, five fingers and an open palm. They are here.
They are sitting at a picnic table off to the side but near the exit. Smart move I surmise. I approach and offer my secret handle. Hi, I'm earthling1.
I listen carefully as each reveal their code names. First, to my left, Student of Earth, and seated next to her, Lizzhy7. To my right, a young woman code named Hisgirlfreind and a man known as Detroitmechworks.
I sit down and we begin discussing The Plan.
As diabolical as it is, to bring peace on Earth, food for the hungry, healing for the sick, housing for the homeless, and special housing for the wealthy, we know our souls will be tested in this great struggle.
As the hours fly by and the beer flows, laughter is let loose. A breach of protocol. No matter how much we try we fail to rein it in, we soon draw the inquiring attention of shadowy figures around us.
It's decided the meeting should be rescheduled at a later date.
Two of the group decide to leave abruptly, Hisgirlfreind and Detroitmechworks dart for the patio exit.
They make a safe getaway.
The remaining three of us linger so as not to draw any more attention, and to reflect on the progress made. Much has been discussed. Much has been revealed.
One of the more important things learned, was that in our frequent communications on the secretive intertubes, we all know now what lol sounds like.
Slowly, I rise and disappear in the smokey haze, to make plans for next time.
Thanks to everyone for a great afternoon.
Let's do it again!