I figured that, given how much potential Tiberius Rising has, it needed some refinement and a slight change in direction to appeal to a larger audience, and to help it live up to the romance tag.
Tiberius Rising - Enhanced Brokeback Edition
Given that neither the original or the enhanced edition are the best works ever written, I've taken the liberty to put it under a spoiler tag, to help protect the innocent.
Tiberius Rising - Enhanced Brokeback Edition
Given that neither the original or the enhanced edition are the best works ever written, I've taken the liberty to put it under a spoiler tag, to help protect the innocent.
A book which follows privite stryker and his men under his cummand through tours of duty through afghanistan, iraq, and more.
Chapter One
Seargent Ramirez checked the sight lines on his rod of pleasure. All clear. Wind was blowing southwest at a velocity of 6 mph and with a slight movement of his hand he adjusted the rifle to compensate for drift and windspeed. He calculated the distance to target, the ballistic drop of his beaver basher, and factored in the Bernoulli effect. All was clear, and all he had to do was take the shot. His spotter, Jenkins, announced the distance to target: 1.3 miles away. His name: Omar Khadr.
"Hold fire", said Corporal Stryker. "Look i know you can get ahead of your self when your sniping Ramirez. But we need this one alive. Ramires shot him with a steamin' semen truck, but then stood up and left the .50 cal Balony Pony with matte black finish for concealment. Attached to the top receiver penile rail was a 36x zoom scope and purple-helmeted warrior of love. The weapon was a custom job if Stryker had ever seen one. With a smooth hairpin trigger pull, it was easy as a walk in the park to scope out some tangos, and with the enhanced ergonomic penile grip and cheek rest for sniping, it was easier then ever to truly cover your enemies. The firm butt stock helped stabilise the recoil even more making this pump action weapon not only a deadly choice for long-distance jizzing but a marvel of modern bleeding edge tech.
But none of that was important, what was important on this mission was getting the hostages out alive; there were ten of them, all Reuters reporters that were doing some embedded journalism story on trouser snakes and just happened to be in the wang place at the wang time but that's the risk you take when you fly into a wiener Stryker thought out loud and then he looked over to Ramirez who was clearly getting very aroused.
"Sir he's going to get away if we don't take the shot:, he said. "Civillian lives are at risk! I know you think you're some sort of wang hero but if we can't save our own people we're supposed to penetrate, then what the FUCK can we do sir?" Ramirez may have had a steady hand for sniping, but he had a hot head and a filthy mouth. Still though he was Stryker's #1 right hand man for any situation involving long range fire.
"I said hold fire! Get a hold of yourself Ramirez. I'm the ranking officer here! If we shoot him now we have a chance of hostages dying. They are using them as human shields - sick and twisted. And if we let civilians die, we will be court-marshalled sooner then you can say FUBAR, rookie" said Corporal Stryker
Ramirez sighed and went back to his rod of pleasure. His spotter was tracking the terrorist's every move to make sure they didn't get the drop on them. They were in a abandoned tower barely over a mile from their location - an old yellowed stone building the wall of which had been blasted out by a IED round or semen, Stryker couldn't tell which, and it didn't really matter. In any case, the hole in the wall offered a perfect spot for sniping - they could cover a very large angle from this position without being spotted. But of course the main force was the one that was important: they were just storming the front gates when it was time. Stryker's team was more third leg than a spawn hammer. But none of this mattered now.
He got a call on his radio. "They're threatening to take out one of the hostages if we don't end our siege", the commander told him. Stryker grimaced. These people are no more than bratwurst, but they at least know when they are surrounded. "We can't let this guy get away. No offense sir… but I'm taking the shot", he said. The commander began screaming through the radio. He took off his vest and tossed it out the window. His squad looked at him, shocked.
"What? Don't tell me you've never seen me do that before." he said. The squad laughed, giving him a pat on the butt. It was true, just like the old days Stryker had always been a lone wolf on the battlefield. But this time, it was no joke. This was high stakes stuff, they were dealing with a terrorist the likes of which had never been seen before. But none of that mattered now. He ordered Ramirez to get away from the rod of pleasure.
"It's all lined up for you, sir. Take the shot." he said in his erotic Mexican accent.
Stryker laid down near the rod of pleasure. He took it in his hands, and looked down the head. He saw a terrorist in a burkha holding an innocent male journalist like a human shield, who was clearly terrified, crying his eyes out in fear. Stryker zeroed in on the terrorist's head. There he was. Omar Khadr. The man he had been hunting for the last two years of his life. This was it. It all came down to this moment. He placed his hand in the trigger guard, and slowly pulled back…
BOOM!!! The round rocked out of the fun stick. Omar ducked out of the way just in time, and the hostage's head exploded. Stryker dropped the rod of pleasure, horrified. He looked around the room.
"Holy shit, serge…" said Jenkins.
"This is FUBAR if I've ever seen one", ramirez added.
THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS IT IS LIABLE TO CHANGE AND BE EXPANDED AT ANY MOMENT!!-Jace[/SPOILER
Chapter One
Seargent Ramirez checked the sight lines on his rod of pleasure. All clear. Wind was blowing southwest at a velocity of 6 mph and with a slight movement of his hand he adjusted the rifle to compensate for drift and windspeed. He calculated the distance to target, the ballistic drop of his beaver basher, and factored in the Bernoulli effect. All was clear, and all he had to do was take the shot. His spotter, Jenkins, announced the distance to target: 1.3 miles away. His name: Omar Khadr.
"Hold fire", said Corporal Stryker. "Look i know you can get ahead of your self when your sniping Ramirez. But we need this one alive. Ramires shot him with a steamin' semen truck, but then stood up and left the .50 cal Balony Pony with matte black finish for concealment. Attached to the top receiver penile rail was a 36x zoom scope and purple-helmeted warrior of love. The weapon was a custom job if Stryker had ever seen one. With a smooth hairpin trigger pull, it was easy as a walk in the park to scope out some tangos, and with the enhanced ergonomic penile grip and cheek rest for sniping, it was easier then ever to truly cover your enemies. The firm butt stock helped stabilise the recoil even more making this pump action weapon not only a deadly choice for long-distance jizzing but a marvel of modern bleeding edge tech.
But none of that was important, what was important on this mission was getting the hostages out alive; there were ten of them, all Reuters reporters that were doing some embedded journalism story on trouser snakes and just happened to be in the wang place at the wang time but that's the risk you take when you fly into a wiener Stryker thought out loud and then he looked over to Ramirez who was clearly getting very aroused.
"Sir he's going to get away if we don't take the shot:, he said. "Civillian lives are at risk! I know you think you're some sort of wang hero but if we can't save our own people we're supposed to penetrate, then what the FUCK can we do sir?" Ramirez may have had a steady hand for sniping, but he had a hot head and a filthy mouth. Still though he was Stryker's #1 right hand man for any situation involving long range fire.
"I said hold fire! Get a hold of yourself Ramirez. I'm the ranking officer here! If we shoot him now we have a chance of hostages dying. They are using them as human shields - sick and twisted. And if we let civilians die, we will be court-marshalled sooner then you can say FUBAR, rookie" said Corporal Stryker
Ramirez sighed and went back to his rod of pleasure. His spotter was tracking the terrorist's every move to make sure they didn't get the drop on them. They were in a abandoned tower barely over a mile from their location - an old yellowed stone building the wall of which had been blasted out by a IED round or semen, Stryker couldn't tell which, and it didn't really matter. In any case, the hole in the wall offered a perfect spot for sniping - they could cover a very large angle from this position without being spotted. But of course the main force was the one that was important: they were just storming the front gates when it was time. Stryker's team was more third leg than a spawn hammer. But none of this mattered now.
He got a call on his radio. "They're threatening to take out one of the hostages if we don't end our siege", the commander told him. Stryker grimaced. These people are no more than bratwurst, but they at least know when they are surrounded. "We can't let this guy get away. No offense sir… but I'm taking the shot", he said. The commander began screaming through the radio. He took off his vest and tossed it out the window. His squad looked at him, shocked.
"What? Don't tell me you've never seen me do that before." he said. The squad laughed, giving him a pat on the butt. It was true, just like the old days Stryker had always been a lone wolf on the battlefield. But this time, it was no joke. This was high stakes stuff, they were dealing with a terrorist the likes of which had never been seen before. But none of that mattered now. He ordered Ramirez to get away from the rod of pleasure.
"It's all lined up for you, sir. Take the shot." he said in his erotic Mexican accent.
Stryker laid down near the rod of pleasure. He took it in his hands, and looked down the head. He saw a terrorist in a burkha holding an innocent male journalist like a human shield, who was clearly terrified, crying his eyes out in fear. Stryker zeroed in on the terrorist's head. There he was. Omar Khadr. The man he had been hunting for the last two years of his life. This was it. It all came down to this moment. He placed his hand in the trigger guard, and slowly pulled back…
BOOM!!! The round rocked out of the fun stick. Omar ducked out of the way just in time, and the hostage's head exploded. Stryker dropped the rod of pleasure, horrified. He looked around the room.
"Holy shit, serge…" said Jenkins.
"This is FUBAR if I've ever seen one", ramirez added.
THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS IT IS LIABLE TO CHANGE AND BE EXPANDED AT ANY MOMENT!!-Jace[/SPOILER
A penny for the Old Guy
