Mission Quite Possible

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Mission Quite Possible

Mission Quite Possible by FWR

I waited until the house was in pitch darkness.

I knew after weeks of planning, memorizing each footstep, I could probably find my target blindfolded. Trying to control my nerves as I put my confidence to the test.

If I was found, well, I dreaded to think. Especially at this time of year. Thoughts of my mother, awakened from her bed. Heartbroken, probably, when she discovered my secret life.

Shaking off doubts, I crept on, determined that the enemy would not get their hands on the package. It would quite literally be the end of the world.

The door creaked hideously, I held my breath, waiting for the shouts. Nothing.

Then the dog loped towards me, growling quietly, roused from sleep, eyes adjusting to the darkness, hot breath against my outstretched hand.

"Shhhhh, it's ok, boy, back to bed, go on, bed time, good lad!" I whispered, trying to keep a commanding tone in the deathly quiet, not an easy task!

I have always had a way with dogs, and banked everything on the beast taking the treat from my fingers, then back to sleep for the pooch!

Tail wagging sleepily, the hound retreated to his bed.

I slipped into the room, risking another creak to keep the dog from returning.

The room was still stiflingly hot, despite the late winter chill. Fire left to burn out, embers glowing.

Faces of soldiers looked down from their frames on the mantelpiece, as if ready to sound the alarm.

A clock ticked noisily on the wall, a low table, still bearing last night's empty tea cup and piles of papers, totally unreadable to me, but these documents held no interest, my target was within feet.

By the dying firelight glow I could see several packages, most of the writing on them unintelligible, I had been practicing hard, but comprehending these squiggles was proving harder than expected.

I did know the words I was looking for though, memorized, so the package could be intercepted and not reach the intended recipient – at any cost, not even my own safety, my future on the line, terrible punishment loomed if I was caught!

Two identical Packages, different writing. Two words I knew well. I was within seconds of success! Glory even! The world would be a better place after tonight, I was certain, despite my subterfuge.

My mission completed. House still slumbering, I made the return journey uneventfully.

The next morning, pleased beyond words, I ripped open the package.

"Wow, thanks ,Mum!" I held up my new Action Man, Tank Commander, the one with the realistic commands when you pulled the string on his back!

"Thanks, Mum," my brother sulked slightly, looking at the box, Paratrooper, realistic hair and gripping hands....but he couldn't talk.

My mum smiled as we played, although she could've sworn the youngest had asked Santa for the talking one, she hoped it wouldn't mean World War Three!

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