Operation: Pacifica, Mr. Geier goes to San Francisco (Part II)
by Lieutenant Commander Geier, TRES Corps

Music - "Streets of Philadelphia" Bruce Springsteen

 It was early morning in San Francisco, and the city was slowly
  waking up.  A heavy fog hung over the city, obscuring its prominent
  features.  The people walking by each other on the hilly streets did not
  notice each other at all, which, of course, suited Ensign Geier just fine.
  It was an instinct to him to stay incognito while in public.  He was
  striding down the sidewalk with a military pace, covering a great deal of
  ground with each step.  He had his hands in his pockets and his head was
  down, lost in thought.  But he never lowered his eyes completely to the
  ground, always looking up periodically and darting his eyes from side to
  side with the practice of a professional, looking for any suspicious
  activity.

 While walking, he pondered his strange dream in which he was told
  to "seek the sword".  What sword?  He felt his Lochaber axe did the job of a
  good sword and more, so what did he need with one?  And why had the voice
  called him Sir Timothy?  That name always had a very painful association in
  Tim's mind, because of the circumstances surrounding the time he was given
  it.  He clenched his fists involuntarily as the memory of the slaughter of
  his family swept over him.  Perhaps when his vengeance was complete, would
  he feel comfortable with that name.

 He brought his mind out of the painful past and continued on,
  maintaining the illusion of being oblivious to his surroundings.  He walked
  by an electronics store that featured a large display of TV's.  His
  instincts as a gatherer of intelligence stopped him, and as he planted
  himself in front of the window, the anchor for a morning news program was
  saying, "Police are still baffled by the apparent vigilante killing of three
  gang members by an unknown person.  In other news, a tuna boat was found at
  the bottom of the Bay, the cause of its sinking is also unknown, but police
  suspect foul play.  Also, two beheaded bodies were discovered just outside
  the Castro Gardens restaurant, and the police have no clue as to who is
  responsible.  And now, for a look at the weather, let's turn to...."  Tim
  continued his walk at this point.  [I see some of my fellow Jihaddi have
  been busy,] he thought with a grin.  [Either that, or there's some psycho
  mass murderer on the loose...]  He stopped and checked his watch, it was
  about an hour since he left the Naval Yards.  [Time to be getting back,] he
  silently decided.  [Some MST3K will be nice, haven't seen 212 in a while...]

Music - "Marche Slave" Tchaikovsky

 As he turned around, he got the impression he was being watched by
  unfriendly eyes.  As he discreetly scanned his immediate surroundings, he
  realized he has unwittingly stumbled into a run-down part of town.  He
  glanced upwards and noticed three people sitting at individual windows in an
  abandoned town house across the street from him.  The purple and green
  clothing gave away the affiliation of the watchers, and they were very
  amateur, Tim noted with a professional's disdain.  [Now, what to do about
  them...] he pondered, as he continued his walk.  If he could somehow get on
  the same plane with the spongin, and fairly close at that, he could snipe
  them with his .357.  Then he realized that there were no vantage points to
  execute this plan, and he also lacked a proper firearm for accurate sniping.
  [.357 just won't cut it here..] he frowned.  He crossed the street and
  started walking the other way, towards the town house.  The sponges still
  watched him, but he gave no sign that he knew they had their eyes on him.
  He turned down an alley running parallel to the house and walked a few
  hundred feet before he made a swift move and leapt onto the chain link fence
  that surrounded the property.  He expertly climbed it and hit the ground
  just outside the house.  Moving quickly, he snuck to the back door and got
  out a lockpick.  After about a minute of fiddling with the lock, it opened
  smoothly.  He gave one last look around before plunging inside.

 The house was rotten and decaying, Tim discovered the instant he
  entered.  He could now hear through the rotting wood the spongin gripe about
  having lost their assignment.  "Where'd he go?  He just disappeared on us!"
  he heard between pathetic prayers to the Purple Demon.  [Damn,] Tim thought,
  [Those pricks were watching me from the moment I walked out of the Yards, I
  should have noticed it right off.  Time to correct my mistake,] he finished
  with a wicked grin.  He loaded and cocked his .357, and readied his throwing
  daggers.  He silently crept up the stairs towards the room where the spongin
  were.  A sudden deceitful plan entered his mind.

 "Healthy Snacks to go!  I have your order!" he announced in a
  cheery voice.

 "Really?"  "Wow!" Tim heard from the minions.

 "Open the door please, I have lots of carrot sticks and milk for
  you!" Tim stated in the same tone.  One unlucky sponge opened the door.
  "Wait a minute!  you're..." "Death," Tim said in a monotone.  He drew his
  .357, aimed it at the sponge's head and fired in a smooth, fluid motion.
  The minion's head exploded in a spectacular shower of blood and gore, his
  stiffening body slamming into the wooden floor with a heavy thud.  Tim was
  already moving his hands to his weapons belt as this occurred, and by the
  time the sponge hit the deck, Geier had let his daggers fly with tremendous
  force at the chests of the other two spongies.  With two sharp plunks, the
  daggers found their marks.  The sponges sighed and slumped to the ground,
  clutching at the instruments of their demise until they gave up their
  struggle with death.  Tim retrieved his knives and cleaned them on the cloak
  of a fallen sponge.  He reconcealed his weapons and quickly left the
  abandoned house.

 About a half hour later, Tim strode into the Yards.  He went
  through the usual entrance formalities and went straight to his quarters,
  picking up some Doritos, Mountain Dew, and MST3K episode 212, "Godzilla vs.
  Megalon."  [I think I've had enough fun in the city for now,] he mused.
  [Time for some relaxation....]

 At five till ten his relaxation was interrupted.

--ST