HWA Message Board: Future Plans

Bagram Air Base: Bagram, Afghanistan

A F-35A Lightning II warplane is being fueled in an hangar and we see Senester in full fatigues being briefed by military personnel. It appears they have been speaking for some time and are near concluding their conversation.

( (Sgt.): Our orders are for jet release, launch, and refuel authority only. An RAF Tristar will rendezvous with you at precisely 645,100 kilometers in Afghan airspace to refuel. Following the rendezvous, you’ll be flying over Iranian militarized air space without an escort, in an American jet. Your landing zone in Tehran is unidentified and unmarked on foreign soil. Other than fueling, you are completely alone. Are you aware of this sir?

(Senester): I’m very well aware of the circumstances sergeant. Thank you.

The hesitant sergeant hands Senester a helmet, adjusts the straps on his flight suit and salutes him as he makes his way to the jet. He climbs inside taking a seat, adjusts a few controls as he powers up and the high-pitched hum of the craft echoes throughout the empty hangar. He closes the cockpit as the doors open and begins to taxi out onto the runway. Moments later a fiery burst of flames protrude from the exhaust as he speeds down the tarp and takes flight. The jet quickly becomes a mere blur and speck in the sky already miles away in the distance as it gains altitude.

Hours later: Tehran Iran

Following encrypted transmissions the flight has been eventless, now reaching his descent into Tehran that seems to change as an Iranian Shafaq fighter jet begins to open fire. Senester takes evasive maneuvers and following another volley of shots the jet retreats. Moments later Senester lands at the Doshan Tappeh Air Base. The cockpit hatch lifts up, he un-straps himself, removes his helmet and exits the craft greeted by a swarm of the Islamic Republic. He walks between the row of men, and at the end of the line before him is Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. He stands beside a large Iranian flag, his hand already outstretched to receive Senester. They smile to one another and greet with a handshake.

(Senester): That was a “spirited” greeting.

(President Ahmadinejad): My sincerest apologies Lord Senester. I’m afraid one of our zealous men has dishonored us by ignoring his instructions. Please…honor me. I welcome your council on his punishment.

(Senester): I have many methods Mr. President, but here I am merely a guest…how do you handle defiance?

Ahmadinejad pulls a side-arm from his waist and shoots the pilot right between the eyes. He then looks at Senester as the man’s body drops to the ground.

(President Ahmadinejad): This is how! Come…we have much to discuss my friend.

The late evening has come, a great feast has been prepared in honor of the summit between Senester and President Ahmadinejad. They now sit on the terrace of the presidential palace with wine and a platter of fruits and cheeses.

(President Ahmadinejad): The excavations have gone well. The missing pages were in the precise location you supplied. Tell me…how did you extract the information?

(Senester): Quite simply…the man who possessed it was burned. He knew the old woman whom in Egypt that I sent you to, and that was it.

(President Ahmadinejad): You did not shoot him?

(Senester): Brute force has it’s uses, but I find a less deliberate and more methodical path suits my tastes.

(President Ahmadinejad): Yes…I see…I must try this! Now…Sheik Shakir and Curt Evers…I am most disturbed by what we saw at dinner. Their behavior is most unusual. I do not wish to have doubts, but I am finding myself in question of your command of this situation. Shakir appears a most apt pupil, while Evers acts in favor of himself…defiant… a most undesirable element.

(Senester): There are different kinds of men in the world Mr. President. Men like Shakir are born humble. They do not know what they own capacity to succeed. They have no prospect for greatness and by that very nature they become so with proper guidance. Men like Curt are the opposite breed. They are born with a sense of entitlement. The watch the world escape them, slip through their fingers that can never seem to hold enough. They believe that they have already ascended to greatness and their burning anger is fueled by the lack of accomplishment that comes precisely from not being yet good enough, let alone great.

(President Ahmadinejad): They need each other then?

(Senester): For the time being yes. Shakir must learn from Curt what greed, and self-righteousness feels like. He must learn what if feels like to assume himself great, because if he is to become so, he must possess the ability to call upon his own humility on order to truly appreciate who he is, and supreme reverence for the lord who brought him to it. Curt…he needs Shakir for the exact opposite. He must learn that he is nothing before he can become something. He has only a mere idea of what greatness is, he has no knowledge of how to obtain it or what it truly is. He must learn the real definition and not the superficial, socially accepted representation of success via spotlights, gold, residuals or magazine covers. When they accomplish this together, when their pilgrimage is complete they will be equals.

(President Ahmadinejad): A great triumph for you indeed. Two such men at your side.

(Senester): Yes. Unfortunately their coexistence may not be an option, perhaps only one may stand beside me in the end, but that is a matter for the another place and time.

(President Ahmadinejad): So then…let us talk of the construction. As we speak the the Azadi Stadium’s renovation is underway to your specifications that allow for an additional 75,000 seats. This will be the largest attendance for a professional wrestling event in history, and it will be on Iranian soil. The world will take notice of this my friend. The Americans will no longer think our country uncivilized. No longer will the world remark my countrymen as terrorists and animals once we have accomplished something they must be second to. This is all thanks to you my friend. This nation is your friend and ally, my people are your people, anything and everything is yours for the asking.

(Senester): I thank you, and on that note there is one small thing I must request. Send me two of your best men. They will work alongside two of mine and together share their expertise. There is a delicate matter that has been unfolding as of late and I will see to it that it is resolved with diligence. Someone has been attacking me during the events. A masked man of fair physical build. I want to know who it is.

(President Ahmadinejad): This is such a small request, why do you ask of something so meager my friend? I have seen your men, they are more than capable of handling this.

(Senester): Yes they are, but by working together, this will allow me to understand how your men work, and to see what advantages or disadvantages will be gained when do arrive here for the big event.

(President Ahmadinejad): It shall be done. This conspirator will be found. He will be found and shot laid before your feet like a golden jackal in the peasant villages.

(Senester): No…not shot…they will bring him to me. I will handle him personally.

(President Ahmadinejad): They call me criminal…you are true tyranny my friend.

Senester smiles curtly looking into the vast distance.

(President Ahmadinejad): Come…you must stay…a place has been prepared for you. It is not our way, but for a friend such as yourself, I am certain you will find the accommodations to your standards. As we agreed you will find your American jet refueled but untouched otherwise for your journey home in the morning. The lost pages you have come for will be brought to you at first light.

Minutes later Senester is escorted to his room. He is saluted by the guards as enters and closes the doors behind him. Inside, naked, and bowed upon his knees is rather stunningly attractive middle-eastern man. Senester looks down at him, understanding Ahmadinejad’s meaning. The man of olive skin and athletic physique rises, and points to a large bath that has been prepared.

(Man): Allow me…master!

He begins to unbutton Senester shirt as the scene fades to black.