Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jordan “Iron Pen” McMillian, the toughest editor in the business, sat authoritatively behind her enormous oak desk. Beyond her was the New York City skyline and with a corner office on the 107^th floor, the sheer amount of light from the myriad windows in the office gave Jordan’s visitors a sense of exhilaration and fear. As she slowly read the dense manuscript in her powerful hands, she thought about all her success and how she got to be a named partner at the world’s most prolific publishing company.  Jordan never took any flak from anyone and she always spoke her mind – heck, she even thought that Shakespeare could use a good Iron Pen red line review.  Reaching the last page of her current read, she huffed and slammed the manuscript on the desk.  

“Are you kidding?” she scoffed over her delicate reading glasses. “What is this garbage?” 

Bulldog, who had patiently waited in silence while Jordan scrutinized his life’s work, stood up and walked to a massive glass bookshelf. “What’s the problem?” he asked flatly, running his pointer finger over the spines of a row of books.

“What’s the problem? What’s the problem?” Jordan guffawed as she tossed her glasses on the desk and leaned forward powerfully on her elbows.  “Do you expect me to believe this?” She picked up the manuscript from the desk, just to toss it down on the desk again dismissively. 

“Every word in there is true,” Bulldog muttered, flicking a marble globe on the coffee table defiantly.  

“Really!” laughed Jordan. She exhaled deeply and sat back down, having picked up the manuscript again. She had seen all kinds of writing cons. People would try for years just to get her to read a sentence they had written, and she could always smell the phonies. Something about Bulldog appealed to her sense of intrigue, but her pragmatic personality told her his story was impossible. Pulling her glasses down on her nose she snipped, “So you are telling me that a squirrel named Fred actually saved your life?” 

“Yes,” said Bulldog, nodding. 

“And you were a spy working for the government?” 

“Yes.”  

“You lived with Tarzan for two years in the jungle?” 

“Yes,” answered Bulldog, “good guy, but a lousy roommate.” 

“If I brought this to the other partners, they’d toss my desk in the basement and I’d be editing crosswords for the rest of my career!”  

“Are you saying I am lying?” Bulldog asked aggressively, leaning forward across the desk.  

“I’m saying, I’ve seen more truth in a Grimm Fairy Tale.  No single human being could possibly have done a third of what’s in here!! Pirates, outlaws, Nazis for crying out loud!!”

Suddenly, a small sphere broke through one of the office’s pristine windows, struck the wall on the far side of the room and started slowly releasing gas. Wide-eyed and stunned, Jordan stood to see the source of the sphere.

“Get down,” yelled Bulldog, grabbing Jordan and tossing her over the far side of the desk, “and stay down!!”

Bulldog looked up to find three acrobatic ninjas pummeling through the already broken windows. Clearly, the gas was just a distraction. “So, you found me?” Bulldog taunted them, “OK, let’s do this!”  

The first ninja lunged at Bulldog with a katana. He swung wildly and Bulldog ducked under the deadly weapon three times.  On the forth swing, Bulldog caught the ninja’s arm and twisted it until it was behind him and wrenching the katana from his assailant’s hand. Immediately, Bulldog hurled the massive sword at the second attacker who was charging straight toward him. The katana perfectly pierced the harness on the second ninja and pinned him firmly against the far wall of the massive office. Chuckling to himself, Bulldog turned back to the man who started with the katana (now weaponless) and slammed his head into a mirror on the wall. 

Meanwhile, the third ninja prepared to take Bulldog out with his throwing stars. He had the wily redneck in his sights, and he whirled the deadly stars through the air with the speed and precision of that only comes after half a century of training. With lightning-quick reflexes, Bulldog bobbed and weaved, catching the stars between his fingers as they came speeding toward him.  He hurled them back toward his attacker’s legs with accuracy and ease, leapt on to the massive oak desk, grabbed a stapler, and clunked the ninja over the head. Bulldog bent down to check out his work and pick up the stapler, when he heard a blood curdling scream behind him. 

The second ninja had freed himself from the wall and was now looming over Bulldog’s bent body, katana in hand.  Bulldog looked the ninja straight in the eyes. He couldn’t see a way out. This was it. But he’d go out like a brave and valiant warrior, eye to eye with his killer.

Just as the ninja bared down on the weapon and hurled his body sharply in a downward motion toward his target, Bulldog saw a large vase crash over the ninja’s head. CRACK! The ninja dropped to the ground in a heap. Behind the body stood Jordan, mouth open in amazement and trembling with fear.

Bulldog put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks,” he said with the same legendary wink Jordan had read about only a few minutes before.  

Iron Pen walked over to her desk brushed the glass and debris off the manuscript, picked it up and clutched it to her chest securely. “I’ll get this up to publishing right away.”

Written By: Scott White

Edited By: Jordan McMillian

Illustration By: Penny A Booher Jones

Penny's Website:  http://www.pennyjones.wix.com/pbjartStudio

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