All characters and events in this story are fictional, any resemblance they share to real people or events is purely coincidental or satirical
“Otra cerveza señor jones?”
He sat perched on a bar stool, vigilant and predatory like an eagle watching for field mice, his head glistening like a honey glazed ham in the Argentinian sun, the man himself, Alex Jones.
Across the market an unassuming old lady walked briskly past vendors touting their wares. Her hair was white beneath a straw hat, her dress floral and conservatively cut, oversized sunglasses hiding her eyes. The disguise was good but Jones saw right threw it, he could almost smell the sulfur from where he sat observing.
A hulking Adonis of a blonde man stepped away from a doorway in the old woman’s path, beckoning to her. Upon noticing him the old woman’s arm shot out at a 45 degree angle, fingers straight. The old woman seemed to catch herself, transforming what could have been seen as a very vulgar German salute into a sheepish wave of her hand. Eyebrow raised, Alex Jones watched intently.
The blonde man spoke close to the old woman’s ear, her head bobbing as if taking instruction. their eyes darting to and fro, making sure no one was eavesdropping on their secret conversation.
“Otra cerveza señor jones?” The waiter asked again.
The clandestine duo across market concluded their conversation, the old woman appeared to click her heels together and the same offending arm made an attempt to raise again before being stopped abruptly by its counterpart.
“no, I think I’ve had enough” muttered Jones through a clenched jaw to the waiter, not taking his eyes off the old woman. The waiter shrugged non-committedly, moving on to another patron.
Alex Jones steeled himself for confrontation, he pulled a handful of capsules out a pocket, his secret weapons; Super male vitality, Vaso Beets, DNA force plus, the works! he swallowed the whole handful dry in one eye watering gulp, bulging and barely able to control the “OH YEAAAH” welling up inside of him.
Pulling a crisp Hamilton out his wallet and slapping it on the bar, he sprang into action.
The old woman was shuffling her way down the cobblestone road but Jones had her in his sights, stalking her as a sheep-dog does the wolf that has wandered on the pasture, the sheep would never know the battle that was about to take place… Jones would protect the herd… to his last breath.
The old woman disappeared behind a crowd of clueless locals, they smiled and laughed together, not knowing a wolf was in their midst, a heartless predator that wanted nothing more than to destroy their way of life and lord over them as a brutal dictator. Jones knew exactly what that monster was capable of and broke chase to confront it.
Jones pushed through the crowd, smiling and waving off the gratitude and praise spoken to him in Spanish from individuals as he passed, Jones just humbly grumbled “gracias, gracias, gracias” into the faces of all those adoring fans that had been helped so immensely by his radio show and the products all over the world, even here in Argentina.
He broke free of the crowd, wiping off some lipstick marks that had mysteriously appeared on his cheek in the fray. “can’t let the wife see that” he chuckled.
He caught a fleeting sight of the old woman disappearing into an alleyway.
“can’t escape me that easily” he growled, breaking into a run to intercept. Jones rounded the corner like a charging defensive lineman fixing to serve the opposing teams unsuspecting quarterback a hearty Kentucky Bluegrass breakfast before he knew what hit him but then Jones came skidding to a stop upon seeing the old lady standing in alley facing him, waiting for him.
“ Alex CHones, mein zources told me vu vould make ein Habearance”
The heavily German accented, unmistakably male voice, addressed Jones gutturally.
“it’s been a long time Klaus, I almost had you in Switzerland but you’re slipperier than you look, nice dress by the way”
The poorly disguised figure blushed slightly , throwing off his wig to reveal the pale bald visage of Alex Jone’s long-time arch nemesis, Klaus Schwab.
“Vu cannot sdop vats coming Chones, vu haffe no itea with vat you interfer”
Klaus stated, smiling without mirth.
“give it up Klaus, I know what you’re planning, I HAVE THE INTEL. Once you were in Argentina I KNEW your next move would be on Antarctica! What’s in Newschwabenland Klaus! Tell me!
The smile slipped from the Germans lips.
“its not too late CHones, CHoin us und claim your blace in ze new vorld order”
Alex smirked “sorry Klaus, im just to busy practicing to be a part of your death cult”
The German appeared bewildered
“bracdicing? Bracdicing vat?”
Faster than a sneeze through a screen door, Jones pulled a .44 magnum from his side holster and leveled it at Schwab.
“practicing the 2nd amendment, globalist scum”
Jones opened fire, sending hot lead down range like he was hell-bent for leather. Hundreds of hours on the range had honed him into a top shelf marksman but even so, Klaus refused to drop or even show sign of impact.
“what the…” Jone’s muttered in exasperation.
The air around Klaus seemed to shimmer, bullets hung steaming in mid air just inches from their intended target before clattering to the ground one by one.
“It vould zeem zat vu’re out of munizions misder chones”
The smile was back on Schwab’s face as he revealed the energy weapon concealed beneath his dress. A weapon like that could fry Jone’s brain in seconds, he had to make a quick getaway.
“well Schwab, you know what they say, the man who plans ahead will ride the gravy train with biscuit wheels”
Jone’s raised the .44 again but this time to his lips. A silver ring dangled from the bottom of the grip that he bit onto and pulled. Click
He threw the pistol and dived away, the alleyway erupted into an explosion of fire, Klaus disappeared behind the inferno.
exploding pistol grips, a little something Owen Shroyer cooked up in the lab back at HQ, came in mighty handy.
Jone’s righted himself just in time to see what appeared to be a…. A UFO hovering above the flames, it emitted a flash of light and then disappeared into the ether. When the flames cleared, all trace of Klaus schwab… was gone.
To be continued!
