Mission Report: Jester’s Story My comms unit crackled in my ear as a drop of huckleberry slid down my back, landing with a disgusting plop on the wire that snaked underneath my clothes. At the same time, drops of water were being shaken on the pale, clammy skin I was supposed to be watching. And I was, I was watching. Out of the corner of my eye I see the fat droplets roll down the small stack of corpses piled precariously to my left. The drops trace thin lines, zig-zagging across the bodies, gravity pulling them slowly off of fingertips and noses, the remaining sharp edges of the now-soft corpses. The renaissance fair was in full swing, and all of the cosplayers had gone all out in costume, and were now ready to fight to the death in order to remain in character. This, …show more content…
Because while everyone else was faking that the bodies were once human, I have the opposite problem. Because one of the bodies, laying somewhere among the props, was indeed human. That person, whoever it was, was most definitely dead. And it was my responsibility to figure out who the body was, while pretending I had no idea it was even there. “Jester, come in Jester” squawked a voice in my ear. Ugh. I guess that pie seriously messed up the connection between my team and me. I had fallen off backwards off the barrel a few moments ago, and after the raucous laughing died down, my drunken friends meandered away to find a different source of entertainment. “I have eyes on the target. What should my next move be?” I muse softly into my earpiece. “301.” Jack states, his voice sharper than the icicles from that mission in Moscow we went on last November. “Incognito? As if I’m not doing that already? What do you think I do for a living?” I say, returning his pointed tone with sarcasm. He chuckles a bit, and I glow a little, knowing I made him smile. We’ve been friends since boot-camp and I’ve seen him laugh maybe three times, if