Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss Read Online Free PDF Page A

the Joint Chiefs of Staff for his next move. They suggested attack ing Peru because of the stink they caused at the United Nations about kicking Canada ’ s ass. However, Telk gave Peru a pass because of his soft spot for llama herders.
    General Daly and President Telk studied an atlas. There had to be somewhere worthy of American domination. “ Bikini Atoll! ” exclaimed President Telk, fantasizing First Lady Yolanda wearing a coconut bikini. “ It has a hot name, and we used to own it. Bikini Atoll should have never been given away in the first place! ”
    “ But what about the Republic of the Marshall Islands? ” asked General Daly. “ They might get upset about our marines invading paradise. ”
    “ Can we take them? ”
    “ Most assuredly, Mr. President. ”
    “ Then make it happen. Just do it! ”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Private Telk , thrust into harsh reality , snapped out of his daydream. His squad took cover at the sides of the road. Ahead lay the carcass of a decaying armadillo. Flies buzzed about. Telk could already smell the stench on the breeze. The problem was that Fist and Claw terrorists often hid roadside bombs inside dead animals. IEDs were a constant problem and a top killer of legionnaires. The armadillo had to be checked out.
    Sergeant Williams pointed a portable countermeasure scan across the intersection. The scan ’ s high-tech beam was designed to bypass the IED ’ s triggering device, detonating its explosive. Nothing happened. Sergeant Williams pointed the scan at the surrounding hills and suspected insurgent positions. A hidden bunker exploded. Williams immediately painted the hillside, directing missile bombardment from the Space Weapons Platform T. Roosevelt . There was no return fire. Legionnaires investigated the bunker, probing possible ambush points. Sergeant Williams handed Private Telk a hand - held metal detector.
    “ Check that armadillo ’ s ass for a bomb, ” ordered Williams.
    The smoke and dust settled from the hillside. Private Telk studied the smelly armadillo through his rifle scope. Check its ass? Telk balked, tossing the metal detector at Sergeant Williams ’ feet. Telk took aim, firing a grenade from his assault rifle at the armadillo. The initial small explosion from the grenade was followed by a much larger blast from a buried artillery shell. “ It ’ s clear , sarge! ” shouted Private Telk. “ That armadillo ’ s ass was hot! ”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
    ‘ B oots on the ground ’ meant to Private Telk was ‘ blisters on the feet. ’ Legionnaires were supposed to ride in air - conditioned armored cars, not walk endless miles of DMZ fence line. Whoever was running this outfit should have their ass kicked. Maybe he should have joined the Navy. Telk had enough ‘ fun, travel, and adventure. ’ Sweating and thirsty, ‘ Navy full speed ahead, let the journey begin ’ seemed much more appealing. And the fantasy took off from there...
     
    * * * * *
     
    Captain Randal Telk commanded the USS Colorado attack submarine, a deep diver and fast swimmer, so quiet it was invisible even to marine life. Like a mako shark , the USS Colorado silently plied the Dragon ’ s Triangle , searching for Chinese merchant ships.
    “ Captain, we have sonar contact bearing 010 , range 12,000 yards. It ’ s a Russian sub shadowing our every move to port. ”
    Russians and Chinese are conspiring , speculated Captain Telk, lighting a cigarette, breathing out through his nose.
    “ Sir, you ’ re not supposed to smoke on board, ” insisted Eugene, the sonar operator. “ It ’ s against regulations, and it’s icky. ”
    “ Load tubes one through six . I want a full spread target solution, ” ordered C aptain Telk. “ And I want a new sonar operator. Shove that fool in torpedo tube seven! ”
    Marines grabbed the sonar operator, always happy for any excuse to beat down another squid. The sonar operator left screaming and kicking, complaining something about writing