Carlus Seenus

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Contents

1. The Small Matter of Hennison
1. Carlus Seenus - Chapter Uno

Chapter 1

The Small Matter of Hennison

By BETHONIE WARING | Published: January 3, 2011

The car sped across the desert, rolling dust storms racing after them and hiding the off road virchles in a camouflage of sand coloured mist. The three black cars would stop for nothing, no one. Nothing but the sound of Mr Lucas Hennison’s voice could stop the speeding cars that reflected the glaring sun so magnificently.

Mr Hennison was sitting comfortably in the back of the central car, hidden from the sun’s rays by the dark, tinted glass. The two men in the front of the car were armed with machine guns, in case the high risk of danger became true, but Mr Hennison was unarmed, as he always was. He sipped an alcoholic beverage and read an old English crime novel. He was a very literate man. A criminal mastermind, but a man who liked his books.

High above, like a horrid dark stain in the clear blue sky, a dark helicopter beat at the air, hovering over the cars. The pilot’s pale blue eyes watched Mr Hennison’s car, steering the helicopter in the same way as the car moved. His fingers dangerously danced over the clear plastic safety cap and he smiled.

Back in the car, Mr Hennison’s new, state of the art mobile phone buzzed. His number changed regularly, and few people knew it. His cold grey eyes glanced from his book to the phone that lay on the seat beside him. Calmly, if slightly annoyed, Mr Hennison lay down his book, sure not to lose his place, and answered the phone.

“Hello.” He said quietly.

The caller, a thirty year old man by the name of Carlus Seenus shouted over the annoying but necessary beating of helicopter blades.

“Good afternoon, Mr Hennison.” He shouted “It’s so nice to hear your voice again. I was beginning to think you had abandoned us.”

“Seenus?” Mr Hennison asked, sitting forward “No, no Seenus. I would never leave you, not without help.”

Carlus brushed his brown hair out from his face “Really? It’s just we haven’t heard from you in such a long time.”

“Where are you Seenus?” Mr Hennison asked, gazing out of the window and imagining Carlus beyond the horizon somewhere.

“Oh, I’m in the air.” Carlus replied, grinning “Yelm is such a fan of the air.”

“Yelm?” Mr Hennison smiled at the memory of his only god daughter, only six when they had last met “How is she? How old is she now?”

“Twelve.” Carlus said “She’s a good girl, following in our footsteps. But a bit annoyed about having not seen Uncle Hennison in such a long while.”

“Well, Seenus,” Mr Hennison chuckled “I’m a very busy man.”

“Actually, she wants to talk to you.” Carlus aid

“Really?” Mr Hennison asked, surprised “Put her on then!”

Carlus handed the phone to his niece, Yelm, or Stacey as most knew her. Carlus slid next to the pilot, gazing out of the window at the cars that were still thundering along, unaware of the danger that hung, limp but close above them.

“Hi Uncle Hennison!” Stacey cried, watching her uncle and the pilot with excitement and adrenalin.

“Hello.” Mr Hennison grinned “How’s my favourite god daughter?”

“I’m ok!” Stacey grinned “But Mr King from math is really, really annoying!”

Mr Hennison chuckled. Stacey rolled her eyes, knowing what she said wasn’t really that funny. The pilot took advantage of the slight distraction to sweep in over the cars, over the central car.

“We will have to meet soon, Yelm.” Mr Hennison said “What do you like now?”

“Flying mostly.” Stacy said “And falling. Don’t you love the thrill of falling? Sky diving and abseiling. I like bunji jumping but there’s nothing like a bit of sky diving!”

“Rather dangerous isn’t it?” Mr Hennison asked.

“Far not as dangerous as I would prefer it to be.” Stacy answered, stepping forward, leaning over Carlus to look out the window.

“That’s your uncle rubbing off on you.” Mr Hennison laughed “Is he looking after you?”

“No!” Stacey cried “He made me go to normal people school!”

“Awww.” Mr Hennison chuckled “So, Yelm, you’re flying now then?”

“Yup.” Stacey said, turning away from the view.

“Are you going to be falling today?”

“Well, something’s going to be falling.” Stacey said, spinning round.

The pilot, a French man by the name of Davey Hertz, grinned, flicking the safety cap on the large red button. Blowing stuff up was in Davey’s nature, he was infamous for it, but Carlson laid a hand over the button. Wait. Davey rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

“What are you doing now, Uncle Hennison?” Stacey asked.

Davey watched Carlus, his eyes flicking between the cars and the man.

“I’m in my car.” Mr Hennison said “Driving through the desert.”

Stacey glanced at her uncle. Carlus had heard. He nodded. Something flickered and ignited in Davey’s eyes. He grinned, jamming the large button down with his thumb.

Carlus patted Davey on the back and stood up.

“Uncle Carlus wants to talk to you again!” Stacey said, sweetly “Bye! See you soon!”

Stacey handed the phone back to Carlus.

“Hello again, Mr Hennison.” Carlus said.

“It will be nice to see you again, Seenus.” Mr Hennison said “You and Yelm.”

Below, the two missiles Davey had dropped hit the ground below them. Davey’s eyes almost blew a fuse when the explosion reached his ears. The line went dead.

“Mission accomplished.” Carlus mumbled “Take us home, Davey.”



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