(Continued from Part I, and Part II):
Chapter 8 (Tank)
With cat like speed and precision, Tank whips out his twin Smith and Wesson Combat Masterpiece revolvers from his velvet lined waistcoat clanking them against his long “chalice”. Diving behind the bar with Mrs. Tank, She quickly leaps up and sprays the ceiling with a couple of quick taps on the trigger of her Israeli Uzi. “Good God woman” exclaimed Tank, “I had no idea you were packing heat tonight”. “I’m always packing heat when I’m with you my big stud Tankie Wankie” she coos. With his long mane of thick hair splayed over his ruggedly handsome face, Tank peers over the top of the bar. Gun smoke (not the TV show) eerily lingers to the ceiling, the juke box silenced, and the glow from the kitchen lighting the now darkened bar. People laying everywhere under the tables start to move, no one hurt, but the Albino assassin is gone, so is the innocent-looking wench from Britain, and Schmuck.
Long Cerris Silver comes clomping from the back room with a long double barreled musket now primed and ready for action, “ere now, I told ye there would be no trouble, ya swabs, avast, stand ready to receive a load of rock salt in yer britches” he foamed. “Now now my good man” advised Tank as he slides the twin revolvers back into his waistcoat holsters, the trouble is gone and no one is worse for wear, here is a fist full of Canadian two dollar bills, this should pay for your troubles quite handsomely”.
Long Cerris Silver lowers the ancient firearm and goes to look for his missing parrots Tweeter and the Monkey Man. Mrs. Tank, now a picture of demure ladiness, slips the still smoking Uzi awkwardly back into her large purse. The patrons not missing a beat, now fully back to their old routine, set the tables and chairs back in place, beer orders flow to the tarbender and the comely wench a sluttish, Britney Spears look-alike waitresses who’s name is Miss Purity, glides about the room, giggling, filling the orders.
“Look at the door way” exclaims the man known only as Enforen exclaims. There, lit only by the lights from a idling Harley Buele motorcycle in the parking lot, is a large yellowed piece of parchment held in place by a long French switchblade. The crowd en masse gathers as witnesses to see the peculiar article, one of them a Doctor A.E. Porter from Amherst examines the ancient document with great care. “Zo, zis document appears to be schlockled mit ze blood, und, I am tinking dat it may be a message from ze kidnapper, vat took der Albino assassin” he blurbed. “Let me see that” said Tank. His keen Eagle like eyes scanned the document that was indeed marked with a peculiar blood like substance.
As the light increased from a passing ½ ton Ford Fargo truck, to the shock and amazement of the gathered patrons, Tank exclaimed, “hey this isn’t blood, it’s Mercury, and it is signed too” In an ancient Spanish text. Tank reads out a garbled rhyming message and the name of the writer. “It says, and it is hard to read, but, I can’t quite get it” fumbles Tank. “Oh for Christ sake” exclaims Mrs. Tank, “use your God Damned glasses ya putz”.
“Be so clear does the moon it rises, full like a flash in the night
The hole in the center, by staff it will glow, ten thousand candle lights.
Albino man, and the guy named Schmuck will see the end of days
Man has settled his account with his God, and now these two must pay”
The document is signed by a name not known to all gathered, but yet, strangely familiar. With solemn grace and a gulp, Tank nervously reads the name to the hushed crowd, it’s,,,, it’s ....OjO. Quick, to the Dart, we are off to see the high Mayor of Oak Island.