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Rex "Rapier" Swan - Bio

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A flash, red, the colour of blood, and there they are, the rocks at the base of the Light house, summoning our doom. Why had no one turned on the beacon inside the Light House. Moving my hand from over my right eye, I felt a warm feeling on the back of my head, and then nothing.

The waters embrace, a cold like knifes stabbing to my very core, then black.

A noise, grating, and another, crashing, a hand clasped closed on my shoulder straps, a foul smell in my nose, Vodka? and a fire like the sun.

I can feel my heels dragging now on the gravel road, hear voices that I can not make out, familiar, I think not.

Steps, and a concrete hallway, echoes of footsteps.

Was it a dream, the bandage is not, and nor is the pain which it covers, where am I? I remember the rocks, the cold of the water and the fire. That smell and those hands.

I sit up, and take hold of the jacket that is next to me, "Rexx 'Rapier' Swan" it says stitched into the seams. My insignias have been removed and the unit markings, I try, but for the life of me can not remember them.

What was I doing on that Boat? were we leaving? But what now? there is no more boat, nor the people that were packed on it decks, shivering in the freezing rain.

How long have I been here, has atrophy set in, I stand and my head throbs, I have to get out of here. I try the door, unlocked, the metal hinges squeal, a noise that is most disagreeable with my head.

The power in the concrete hallway is out, but I can make out the steps, where is everyone? I make it to the stairs, and descend, what is happening? then I remember the warnings on the radio, to leave, to just drop everything and leave. "Huh! so we were leaving" I say aloud.

And then a voice, "Droog?". Panic sets in, I freeze, "Who is there?" I ask hoping they are a friend, "Droog?" again the same word, I move on down the hall, and there sitting against the wall, wearing green is a man.


"Russian?" I ask.

"Da" the man answers, as he moves his hand to his chest.

"What is happening here? do you speak English?".

There is a pause, the man looks at me with pain in his eyes.

"My dear friend, you have to leave this place, it would maybe have been kinder to leave you to the Ocean, instead of this life"

"You saved me, it was you dragging me, there were more of you, what happened?"

Excitement is racing through me, the man coughs, there is blood on his fist.

"I am all that is left, my friend, we were attacked"

The man coughs again, I see that he is trying to unbutton his pocket, I help, and take out a lighter and a packet of Lucky Strike, I put a cigarette to the man blood stained lips and light it.

After drawing smoke down into his lungs, he exhales with a rasping sound, and points to a doorway.

"Spasiba, now you must go, I am done for, remember who you are, and never forget where you came from"

I walk to the door, and let the mornings sun light pour in from the courtyard. This is the start I think to myself, the beginning.

"Head for the coastline" the man says, "it is safe there, safer than here, now go! and close the door"

I close the door and take my first steps into this new morning this new world.


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A camp fire, sitting, thinking. That fire reaching unto the sky, its pale Fawkes twisting, dancing....

(shotgun jack)

A sight, I've lost sight, and will never forget.

(What is honor)

Waiting, for something, that seems, a shot forever in the dark


my friend...

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