KATALOG KARYA TULIS BACK FROM THE BRINK No : 2011.449 Cerita Bersambung - Asal Usul © 2011-03-09 : 18:37:30 (3795 hari -17:47:38 lalu)
KRONOLOGIS KARYA : Jumlah perolehan HITS 2438 Mutiara Sukma Portal Karya Seni dan Sastra Jumlah Komentar : 0 Komentator Pengiring Inspirasi : lyrict-lagu-pilihan-lama Status Karya Tulis : Publish
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Selamat RehatThe Power to be your best
ternyata tak ku duga, di sini mulai cerita
Lagu merupakan lagu pilihan MIS 1 Mutiara Sukma Ayu Lestari Dwi dipersembahkan dengan inspirasi : Buka mata buka hati. Mata sebagai jendela realita terhadap apapun yang terlihat termasuk interpresatsi yang dihasilkan akal pikiran. Hati adalah jendela rasa. . Satukan hati dan pikiran Buka mata buka hati. Kastil Cinta Ku [MEMBANGUN CINTA MOMENT : 2021-07-22 06:52:30] RESENSI KARYA TULIS :
BACK FROM THE BRINK (Ayu Lestari Dwi,2011).-- "Hello." The stranger said, walking through the door with a Sumber : GFDRobin "Hello." The stranger said, walking through the door with a military swagger. He had no sooner entered the room than someone posted in the hallway closed the door. The man extended his hand, large and in proportion with his body.
"I'm Miles Standish, M's replacement. I've gone over your file a number of times. We need to talk. Mind if I pull up a chair."
"Well, since you already have, yes, let's talk. For starters, I'm going bonkers. When am I getting out of here?"
"All in good time, first things first. I'll begin by reminding you that you're still under the authority of the Secret Service, your contract expires two years out. Your monthly salary continues to be deposited in the Bank of London. In short, we still own you. You will only speak when I want you to, otherwise you will listen to what I say without any further outbursts. Are we clear on that?"
"We'll, we're off to a grand beginning, aren't we." It was more of a statement than a question, Shane's eyes flashed behind a flushed face. Fighting the anger, he continued. "Let me remind you that I am both a victim and a survivor here, but I'm wondering why you're giving me vibes that I'm suspected of being the perpetrator."
Dismissing Noah’s cheeky demeanor, Standish got right to the point. "What was your relationship with the person you knew as Maria Romano?"
"Close friends, actually an exclusive relationship." Noah spit the words back at him without hesitation.
"I think a more apt description would be your paramour and apparent confidant."
"What are you implying?"
"Among other things, pillow talk. Loose lips sink ships and you, the son of a legend, should know better. Are you aware of her real identity?"
"What?" Noah's jaw dropped. His heart began to race.
"Considering the circumstances, we took the liberty to pursue any possible leads, however remote. We checked your apartment for fingerprints and to our dismay everything had been wiped clean, including two wine glasses in your bedroom. I found that strange, don't you? Especially since witnesses saw you both together Christmas Eve. Let me go on to say that in searching her Windsor address, which had been hastily vacated, once again there was no trace of prints."
"Her real identify? I thought I knew. What does this mean?"
"Well, we got lucky, went back to your place a second time and found a sealed condom laying under your chest of drawers, carelessness on someone's part, but for us a road map. We hit pay dirt, two sets of prints, hers and yours. Her real name is Maria Giardina, Sicilian heritage, traced the name back to the very beginnings of the Mafioso in Palermo. Further research showed that she is a trained espionage agent working for a burgeoning terrorist organization called DETTI, based in Jordan.
"DETTI?"
"Yes Shane, an acronym for 'death to the infidels. You need to stay current on these things! It's also true that in November, our mid-east agent, code name Uproot, infiltrated that organization and was personally instrumental in exposing and bringing about the execution of their leader. But as we all know, there's always a line of eager replacements. Better the Devil you know than the one you don't, as they say. So, their reprisal was swift, thanks to your loose lips and wag-full tongue." His eyes bore into Noah’s with contempt.
"I resent that accusation!"
"I don't give a rodent’s ass what you resent, the fact of the matter is you were duped - hook, line and sinker - used to the nth degree and fell prey to the oldest trap in the world, LUST. Your father, I'm sure, is rolling over in his grave right now. Somewhere along line you slipped up, how else would they have found station U?"
"Bloody Hell! What did you just say about my father?" His head was spinning.
"Sorry, Noah. Let’s be on a first name basis here on out. That was inappropriate for me to break the news to you in that manner. Unfortunately, it happened right after he learned that you were the stoolie, the unwitting link to all this."
Noah felt a familiar, long ago feeling, not experienced since childhood. A tremble rose from his feet and something foreign lodged in his throat, choking off his air supply. He gripped the bed with white knuckles and began to shake like an air-compressor running hell bent on three mismatched legs.
Standish leapt to the door, jerked it open and ordered, "Get a nurse, now!"
Within minutes of taking a mild sedative, Noah became stable and coherent, but was still ridden with guilt. It was obvious to Standish the trauma he had triggered. He requested immediate arm straps to constrain the potential for suicidal attacks.
Standish paced back and forth, cleared his throat and sat in the chair and pulled it close to the bedside. "Listen to me. You're not a bad agent, although you know as well as I that your father pulled strings and pledged favors to get you into the firm. You've been dragged along holding onto his coat tails. No doubt, it was his way of living on into perpetuity, becoming immortal, so to speak. Yes, your record has been satisfactory, but not outstanding. Women have duped the best of men, myself included, but that's a long story that I won't burden you with at this time. However, cohabiting versus spilling your guts along with the Firm's secrets are different things entirely. What has happened is now irreversible history. Let's focus on tomorrow, the future and where you can fit best in the Secret Service. Don't worry, I'm not talking about a desk job." He suddenly stood and flexed his knees as if struck by a bit of arthritis.
"Based on the severe extent of your injuries, we authorized some . . . uh, changes, improvements, if you will, in the otherwise normal surgical procedures." He paused, gathering his thoughts and then cleared his throat again..
"Quit beating around the bush, what are you trying to say? Spit it out. God damn it!"
"Calm down or I'll have you further sedated 'til your tongue rolls out and you drown in your own drool! I'm your superior and don't forget it!"
More like a strapping ape with a Napoleon complex having a power attack,thought Noah, finding humor at odd moments.
"What the hell are you smiling at?"
"Nothing, carry on, SIR. It's about time that I hear about my surgery. But it better be good, because I'm pissed, primed and positively ready to sue you, the Firm and anyone else that rubs me the wrong way again."
Standish stared unblinkingly for the longest time containing his own rage. It reminded him of the anger he felt whenever locked in the dark broom closet as a child. "Okay, yes the time has come. I was about to say that both your knees and legs, the tibia and fibula, were virtually destroyed. Total artificial replacements were necessary. You are now state of the art, an improved design over Mother Nature and millions of years of evolution. Titanium alloy, ball and socket self-lubricating with treated end links that readily graft with bone. The Patella, or kneecap, is now high density stainless that for all intents and purposes can impart devastating damage once you undergo advanced training for infighting. "
That explains the strange sensations within, thought Noah, but, after all, he was lucky just to be alive.
"Well enough, but what's the downside? They always exist don't they? Everything's give and take, right? "
"Yes, yes, it's all experimental, but we've done the best possible. Due to conduction issues the recommendation is that you shy away from climates under fifty degrees Fahrenheit. These prototype replacements are an American design; you'll have to do the Celsius conversion, but . . ."
Noah interrupted, "Standish, that would be 15 degrees Celsius. YOU should really stay up on those things, SIR," His voice dripped with sarcasm. In for a penny, in for a pound, he mused, continuing on. "So, I risk freezing my knees and legs off, good thing I didn't take any lead in my ass. And my arms, what about them? Are they bionic, too?"
"Quasi-bionic, I'd say." Miles mustered a meek smile. "Think of it as fine-tuning your muscles, biceps, triceps and forearms, the ligaments have been optimized for form, fit and function and anchoring has been surgically improved. Estimates are a minimum strength increase of 30%, providing you keep fit. Mind you this all becomes applicable after another month of rehab and adhering to a strict exercise regimen. As you know, your father's collection of old cars, in order to maintain performance curves, should be driven at least twice a week. The body is no different, more so in your situation. Speaking of which, your own car is currently being garaged and cared for, pending your return." He walked to the window, looking out at the view, turned and saw the questions written across Noah’s face.
"Before you interrupt me, there’s another major change much like your knees. Your forearms were shattered irreparably, as well. They, too, have been replaced with the same titanium alloy. Again the bone grafts are extraordinary. It's akin to carrying a pipe-like weapon in each arm, your ability to shatter, crush and maim anyone willing you harm is now phenomenal. We've also dulled the nerve ganglia in the forearms to increase your tolerance to pain. Titanium, also in the elbows, again potential weapons at your disposal."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, maybe the most important thing of all. Your heart has an STPS, a sub-dermal thin protective shield made of an advanced space age polymer that is five times effective as the bulkier Kevlar. For the sake of symmetry, we've extended it across the chest for cosmetic reasons. Appearance wise, no one would suspect its existence."
"Haven't you overlooked the obvious? What about my head, if someone takes a shot at me, all that expense down the drain, all for naught."
"The obvious answer is to use your head and duck. So, let's talk about the new Noah Shane, agent 0001. Yes, you heard me correctly. You'll be the first Triple-O-Agent."
"If I may be so bold, just what does that mean?" Noah scuffed, but was unable to contain his curiosity.
"Over and above the bionic implication, it means several things. Let me say, that I'm a firm believer that monetary compensation should be a function of risk. Your salary will be head and shoulders above any other agent, essentially the equivalent of a King's ransom and will afford you a life without wants. As you know the double-O status is a license to kill when justifiable and with immunity from prosecution, at least in Britain. The real triple-O status, well, I'll be blunt with you Noah. That designation won't be found in writing anywhere in our files. It's a secret code that means your only assignments will be to eliminate specified targets that threaten the sovereignty of Great Britain. Your territorial authority is the globe. It's the highest of honors and, of course, carries great personal risk. There's no greater gift one can give their country than ones' own life, if it comes to that end."
"Standish, your glib tongue is only exceeded by your underestimation of my understanding of what you just said. To summarize, I'd be a hired assassin, under the guise and protection of her Majesty's Secret Service with my own death seemingly a certainty," Noah quipped. His eyes narrowed, somewhat insulted by what he had heard.
"Well, let me qualify the protection part of what you thought you heard. For the record, any of the assassinations would be of your own doing. Officially, we'd disavow any knowledge or responsibility of your actions and would write off your sins as that of a rogue agent that answered only to God himself, an inner voice that corrupted your thinking. Off the record, we'd do everything humanly possible to liberate you from whatever repercussions resulted from your assignments." Standish paused for effect.
'Thanks, but no thanks, I'm afraid that I'm just not interested."
"Let me remind you of the disgrace you have brought on yourself, your father and your Queen and your country. It's true that we've suppressed news of that tragic happening, but I suspect it's only a matter of time before the truth slips out. Too many people were involved in the aftermath. Sooner or later tongues will wag. The Firm will weather the storm and survive, but if it's revealed which agent caused that bloody massacre, well, that agent will live in sheer hell in perpetuity, disgraced, shamed and dogged by the victim's loved ones. They will demand retribution, and it's probable that they'd take the law into their own hands."
"That's BLACKMAIL! You son of a bitch, I've risked my life for my country!"
"Call it what you want Shane. I see it as an incentive for you to do the right thing. It's all about redemption, if only to clear the demons from your own head."
"You're guessing! You don't' really know who's behind this. Seems to me this whole case you're making wouldn't hold water in a court of law. You are drawing conclusions based on appearances and circumstances. Where's your real proof?"
"If you must know, besides the overwhelming circumstantial evidence, there are a couple of things that incriminate DETTI. We scoured the wooded area near the trail leading to the barn and found a fresh dead wild boar, a large male. The animal was rabid and had been shot several times by a 9mm Armalite AR-24 pistol manufactured in Turkey. We deduced that, by chance, our wild pig had attacked one of the terrorists. We found human blood on the tusks. We checked all hospitals and doctor offices within 100 kilometers and hit pay dirt." He paused, spied a glass of water on Noah's tray and downed it.
"About two hours after the Station U alarm was triggered, about 90 kilometers south, in Brighton on the coast, two middle-eastern men awakened a doctor. One of the men said a wild dog that was foaming at the mouth had bitten him. The doctor confirmed the man had rabies and treated him accordingly. Per protocol, the man had to fill out an accident form. Of course all the personal information was bogus, but we did get a thumbprint. Interpol confirms the identity to be Abu al-Smeik, a known terrorist in the DETTI group. Also, a few cigarette stubs were found in the weeds around the tractor, apparently blown there by the wind. They contained some of the finest tobacco grown on the Black Sea coast, around Samsun. Is that proof enough?"
Noah Shane contemplated what he had just heard. It was convincing. They now had his balls in a tight squeeze. He had no choice. Regardless, he wanted to do the right thing. He loved his country and wished to make his father proud. This was his resigned fate. It was why he had survived and it was time to make amends. If his life was the price to be paid, then so be it.
"Yes, of course you're right. It's my duty to God and country. I will do as you wish, the sooner the better. However, there is one condition. I'll give you six years of my life, no more. I'll want a full pension and the records of what happened at Station U, destroyed and you'll have to find a fail-safe way of convincing me the records won't ever appear to someday shame my name and family."
"Ten years and not a month less." Retorted Standish.
"I'll split the difference and go eight years with the proviso that my vacations are paid 100% by the firm, including travel, food and lodging. Put it in writing." Give up something; take something in return, he thought. Life is a negotiation.
"Consider it done Noah. This will please our superiors. The world is changing for the worse. England's political enemies are everywhere. We need someone that can strike and eradicate any threat and you are that man, one that will go down in history as a savior. So, the immediate question is how do we best utilize you going forward? As you might suspect, we can't let what happened on Christmas Day go without reprisals. For starters, your ex-girlfriend, Maria Giardina must be eliminated. Then we have a list of the next four individuals in line to lead DETTI, if and when the time comes. Their elimination, along with the current leader, will send a message that can't be ignored. They'll think twice before they shed another drop of English blood!"
"Maria. Eliminated!" He still couldn't shake the feelings he had for her in spite of the facts.
"Yes, of course. Must I remind you that she sent you to your own execution? You also have our comrades that died that day to avenge, as well as letting the world know that no one can get away with this type of thing ever again. Additionally, your father would expect it, wouldn't he? Make him proud, redeem your good standing in the Secret Service and impress your own Queen for God's sake. You know, when you succeed in this and eradicate DETTI, once and for all, I can assure you that Knighthood will be in order. Sir Noah Maximilian Shane has a nice ring to it."
Noah smiled, "Yes, father would certainly have liked that." He paused, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "Now I know, it just came to me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Maria, that last night, the one thing I saw in her eyes that I couldn't identify."
"Well, spit it out. What was it?" Standish pressed, looking for a lead.
"Guilt!" He sighed, feeling like he had just pulled out the bottom Queen of Hearts from a house of stacked cards, a colossal disappointment at first, but then acceptance. Ambivalence left his eyes, replaced by resignation, then anger.
"That two-faced bitch deserves nothing less than a slow death. First her, then the others," he added, slamming his forearm down on the bed railing. Their startled eyes both locked on the now crushed v-shaped rail and then knowingly at each other.
Noah lay there listening to the thump-thump-thump of the departing helicopter fade away.Guess Nietzsche was right about surviving destruction and becoming stronger, he mused. Then his eyelids grew heavy.





Indonesia,
Manajemen Mutiara Sukma
Ayu Lestari Dwi mulai gabung sejak 3896 hari -07:19:32 lalu tepatnya 2010-11-28 08:09:24. Ayu Lestari Dwi mempunyai motto Jika kita enggan melakukan hal yang kecil manamungkin kita dapat melakukan tugas yang besar