Brian J. Mullis In Operation Banana Eater Delta

Chapter 5: Glock 19, Bro!

I awoke abruptly, the impact of a powerful punch resonating through my body, accompanied by a menacing voice that demanded answers.

"Who are you?"

The pain hadn't subsided before another blow followed, along with an interrogation.

"Who do you work for?"

"No one!" I managed to gasp between punches.

"Lies!" My assailant's fists continued their assault on my gut, striking me relentlessly.

"I want the truth, and only the truth. If you lie to me one more time, I will personally execute you, B-dog."

The use of that nickname brought back a flood of memories I would rather forget. It was Riley Ellison, my childhood tormentor, who now found pleasure in my suffering. I wondered how he ended up working for a banana company, but at that moment, survival seemed unlikely as he prepared to execute me. Yet, a familiar voice intervened, halting his brutal assault.

"Riley, stop hurting him! If you knock him out, we'll never get the answers we need."

To my astonishment, it was Sgt. Linda, a trusted ally, who had arrived to rescue me. Questions swirled in my mind. How did she find me? Did she betray the Whole Foods family?

Riley relented, begrudgingly leaving me in Linda's care. My attempts to utter her name were stifled by the pain coursing through my body.

"It's okay, Brian. It's me, Linda. I'm going to get you out of here. Just stay quiet," she reassured me.

She removed the ragged bag that blinded me, and as the light flooded in, she swiftly cut me loose, and I collapsed to the ground.

"How did you find me, Linda?" I managed to utter through gritted teeth.

"We planted a GPS in your fanny pack," she explained.

Relief washed over me, knowing that I hadn't betrayed the Whole Foods family. But the journey wasn't over yet.

"We don't have time to waste. I have an extraction point nearby," Linda informed me, her voice laced with urgency.

"What about my banana?" I inquired, the desire for that elusive fruit still burning within me.

"I already had Lucas grab one, but our priority is getting out of here alive. Let's go!" Linda replied, her determination unwavering.

We navigated through the camp adjacent to the factory, moving swiftly and silently. We evaded the guards and reached the camp's gate, only to be confronted by Riley and a squad of armed guards. But Linda had a plan—a motorcycle plan.

With fierce determination, we burst through the gate, skillfully dodging the hail of bullets directed at us. Riding the motorbike at breakneck speed, we raced toward the extraction point. However, Riley relentlessly pursued us in an overpowering tank, showing no concern for the lives of his own men.

"If we can't outrun him, we'll slow him down," Linda declared.

Handing me a rocket launcher, she instructed, "Aim for the tires, Brian."

Amid the bumpy ride, my shots initially missed their mark, but persistence paid off. I managed to hit the tank's tires, momentarily slowing down Riley's menacing vehicle. Though he quickly recovered, the shots had bought us precious time.

"Brian, look ahead! There's a bridge. We can blow it up and make his tank plummet into the river below. Then we can reach the extraction point," Linda suggested.

Uncertain, I questioned, "Are you sure, Linda?"

"Positive," she confirmed.

With resolve, I agreed, "Okay, let's do this!"

We stopped the bike, strategically identifying the weak points of the dilapidated wooden bridge. Waiting for Riley to approach, we seized the moment.

"There he is, Linda!" I alerted her.

"Wait for the shot, Brian. Wait for it... NOW, SHOOT!"

The explosive impact reverberated through the air as the bridge crumbled in an instant. Riley's tank, along with his remaining squad, plummeted into the river below. However, our task was not complete. Riley, now unarmed and consumed by rage, stood before us.

"I can take him, Linda," I assured her.

"Alright, Brian J. Mullis, go kick his butt," she encouraged.

With a surreal sense of determination, Riley and I slowly approached each other, locked in a battle fueled by pride and vengeance. No weapons, no tricks, just fists. Though Riley initially had the advantage, my unwavering willpower and endurance began to tip the scales. His strength and ego were no match for my secret weapon.

"Glock 19, bro!"

Multiple shots were fired, but to my disbelief, Riley remained standing.

"How? No one can survive eight Glock 19 shots! What is this?" Riley exclaimed in disbelief.

"I'm going to end you, B-dog!" he threatened.

Then, as if guided by divine intervention, thunder and lightning crackled above, striking Riley with an uncanny precision.

"What?" he muttered, his body consumed by the flames.

A sense of awe washed over me, as I realized the extraordinary stroke of luck. In that moment, my faith in my lord and savior, Gerbert the fart lord, grew stronger than ever.

With Riley defeated and the threat extinguished, a mix of relief and exhaustion overcame me. The adventure had tested my limits and reshaped my perspective. I vowed to cherish life's simpler joys, focusing on the sweetness of each moment rather than fixating on material desires.

As the flames consumed Riley's lifeless body, Linda approached me, concern etched on her face. "Brian, are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, Linda," I assured her, a faint smile emerging. "And thank you—for saving me and believing in me."

Linda nodded, a sense of mutual understanding passing between us. "We're a team, Brian. Always have been."

With a renewed sense of purpose, we made our way to the extraction point, leaving the chaos and destruction behind.