One-Shot

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Overview

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.
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One-Shot

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Overview

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781463896157
  • Publisher: Alan Rodgers Books
  • Publication date: 6/1/2011
  • Pages: 24
  • Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 9.00 (h) x 0.25 (d)

Read an Excerpt

On the day that the Polish freighter Ludmilla laid an egg in New York harbor, Abner Longmans ("One-Shot") Braun was in the city going about his normal business, which was making another million dollars. As we found out later, almost nothing else was normal about that particular week end for Braun. For one thing, he had brought his family with him--a complete departure from routine--reflecting the unprecedentedly legitimate nature of the deals he was trying to make. From every point of view it was a bad week end for the CIA to mix into his affairs, but nobody had explained that to the master of the Ludmilla.

I had better add here that we knew nothing about this until afterward; from the point of view of the storyteller, an organization like Civilian Intelligence Associates gets to all its facts backwards, entering the tale at the pay-off, working back to the hook, and winding up with a sheaf of background facts to feed into the computer for Next Time. It's rough on the various people who've tried to fictionalize what we do--particularly for the lazy examples of the breed, who come to us expecting that their plotting has already been done for them--but it's inherent in the way we operate, and there it is.

Certainly nobody at CIA so much as thought of Braun when the news first came through. Harry Anderton, the Harbor Defense chief, called us at 0830 Friday to take on the job of identifying the egg; this was when our records show us officially entering the affair, but, of course, Anderton had been keeping the wires to Washington steaming for an hour before that, getting authorization to spend some of his money on us (our clearance status was then and is nowC&R--clean and routine).

I was in the central office when the call came through, and had some difficulty in making out precisely what Anderton wanted of us. "Slow down, Colonel Anderton, please," I begged him. "Two or three seconds won't make that much difference. How did you find out about this egg in the first place?"

"The automatic compartment bulkheads on the Ludmilla were defective," he said. "It seems that this egg was buried among a lot of other crates in the dump-cell of the hold--"

"What's a dump cell?"

"It's a sea lock for getting rid of dangerous cargo. The bottom of it opens right to Davy Jones. Standard fitting for ships carrying explosives, radioactives, anything that might act up unexpectedly."

"All right," I said. "Go ahead."

"Well, there was a timer on the dump-cell floor, set to drop the egg when the ship came up the river. That worked fine, but the automatic bulkheads that are supposed to keep the rest of the ship from being flooded while the cell's open, didn't. At least they didn't do a thorough job. The Ludmilla began to list and the captain yelled for help. When the Harbor Patrol found the dump-cell open, they called us in."

"I see." I thought about it a moment. "In other words, you don't know whether the Ludmilla really laid an egg or not."

"That's what I keep trying to explain to you, Dr. Harris. We don't know what she dropped and we haven't any way of finding out. It could be a bomb--it could be anything. We're sweating everybody on board the ship now, but it's my guess that none of them know anything; the whole procedure was designed to be automatic."

"All right, we'll take it," I said. "You've got divers down?"

"Sure, but--"

"We'll worry about the buts from here on. Get us a direct line from your barge to the big board here so we can direct the work. Better get on over here yourself."

"Right." He sounded relieved. Official people have a lot of confidence in CIA; too much, in my estimation. Some day the job will come along that we can't handle, and then Washington will be kicking itself--or, more likely, some scapegoat--for having failed to develop a comparable government department.

Not that there was much prospect of Washington's doing that. Official thinking had been running in the other direction for years. The precedent was the Associated Universities organization which ran Brookhaven; CIA had been started the same way, by a loose corporation of universities and industries all of which had wanted to own an ULTIMAC and no one of which had had the money to buy one for itself. The Eisenhower administration, with its emphasis on private enterprise and concomitant reluctance to sink federal funds into projects of such size, had turned the two examples into a nice fat trend, which ULTIMAC herself said wasn't going to be reversed within the practicable lifetime of CIA.

* * * *

I buzzed for two staffers, and in five minutes got Clark Cheyney and Joan Hadamard, CIA's business manager and social science division chief respectively. The titles were almost solely for the benefit of the T/O--that is, Clark and Joan do serve in those capacities, but said service takes about two per cent of their capacities and their time. I shot them a couple of sentences of explanation, trusting them to pick up whatever else they needed from the tape, and checked the line to the divers' barge.

It was already open; Anderton had gone to work quickly and with decision once he was sure we were taking on the major question. The television screen lit, but nothing showed on it but murky light, striped with streamers of darkness slowly rising and falling. The audio went cloonck ... oing, oing ... bonk ... oing ... Underwater noises, shapeless and characterless.

"Hello, out there in the harbor. This is CIA, Harris calling. Come in, please."

"Monig here," the audio said. Boink ... oing, oing...

"Got anything yet?"

"Not a thing, Dr. Harris," Monig said. "You can't see three inches in front of your face down here--it's too silty. We've bumped into a couple of crates, but so far, no egg."

"Keep trying."

Cheyney, looking even more like a bulldog than usual, was setting his stopwatch by one of the eight clocks on ULTIMAC's face. "Want me to take the divers?" he said.

"No, Clark, not yet. I'd rather have Joan do it for the moment." I passed the mike to her. "You'd better run a probability series first."

"Check." He began feeding tape into the integrator's mouth. "What's your angle, Peter?"

"The ship. I want to see how heavily shielded that dump-cell is."

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 14 )
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 16 of 14 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 8, 2015

    Shadowing

    AWESOME!!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 8, 2015

    Lin ☼

    Yay!! I'm still catching up on my DW, about halfway through the third season. I love it!!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 7, 2015

    2.2. What? (Part 2)

    "He rescued me from infernal gigantic shiny floating monsters that he called Daleks when I was a kit." Joystar gave him a happy mew and said, "Doctor, would you mind not going into the other territories? You gave my own Warriors quit a scare. And _I'm_ the one running the Clan. That means quite a bit." <p> "Indeed it does!" said the Twoleg called the Doctor. <p>Joystar continued on. "I would love to get an update on the Twoleg world, but I unfortunately must go. Being a leader is hard work, and duty calls. But first, I woulf like you to meet some of my Warriors." Joystar introduced each of the Warriors one at a time, before she finally rested her tail on my shoulder. "This," my mate said, "is my mate. Sparkrunner, say hello to the Doctor." <p>"Hello!" I said. <p>"I think it's time to go," Severedtail interrupted. "Pondshimmer is going to send out a search party if we don't return soon."<p>Joystar nodded. "You're right, Severedtail. Let's get going. Goodbye, Doctor, and this time I think it is for good." <p>The nine (OOC: I think it's nine) of us exited the blue den and turned around to wave our tails goodbye. The den began fading, and a whistling sound like the wind filled the air. The orb on the top began glowing and our fur was blown back by a blast of air. The den vanished and life in the forest continued on as though it was never there.<p>"Well, that's just about the strangest thin that's ever happened in my entire life." I was awestruck and confused, but i certainly didn't show it. <p>"Stranger thing are yet to come," said Goldenrod. <p>Sixteen eyes turned to the shecat. "What?" said Severedtail. <p>"Oh, nothing. Just the greatest prophecy in the history of the clans." And she recited the Prophecy of the Four Corners for the first time in the world, and the world watched with glittering, ambitious eyes.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 28, 2015

    2. What? (Warriors/Multifandom Mash)

    "Sparkrunner!" <p>"What?" <p>"The entire border patrol was captured by Twolegs!" <p>"_WHAT?_" <p>"Hidingstrike, Angelpaw, Dodgepaw, and Gingerleaf were trapped by an invisible Twoleg den!" <p>"_WHAT THE STARCLAN_?????"<p>I ran to Joystar's den faster than I thought possible. <p>"Patrol! Twolegs! Trap! Captured! Invisible!" I started blurting out those words, and I repeated them several times and quite out of order before I collapsed ten seconds later, out of breath.<p>Joystar, who happens to be my mate and knows me better than anycat else in the world, licked the fur on my light grey head smooth and asked me to explain slowly. She always knows how to calm me down.<p>Joystar looks so amazingly calm in the event of a crisis. It's not a wonder she's leader. She's beautiful inside and out.<p>I then told her what my Clanmate had said. "Sparrowleaf told me that Gingerleaf, Dodgepaw, Angelpaw, and Hidingstrike were caught by Twolegs in an invisible den." I nuzzled her gently on the shoulder and closed my eyes. Great Starclan, her fur was so soft.<p>Joystar calmly answered, "Let's go speak to them about it." I nodded. We stood up and walked out of her den, onto the Overhang, and down the pile of rocks. <p> I stopped a few tail-lengths away from Sparrowleaf. Joystar continued another few steps, then began her questioning.<p>From Sparrowleaf, we learned that a square blue den had appeared, out of thin air, around all of the Lightclan border's patrol. Sparrowleaf had witnessed three Twolegs come out of the den, one of them holding Dodgepaw. Dodgepaw was almost no bigger than a kit, which worried me, but I was confident the others could hold their own. Sparrowleaf had reported directly back to camp to call for backup. Joystar decided that five would go. That included herself, Goldenrod, Poppypetal, Severedtail, and me. Sparrowleaf led us through the forest out into the clearing bearing the big blue den.<p>The Twolegs were nowhere to be seen, but the entrance to the den was left ajar. I peeked in and saw that Gingerleaf was showing her teeth to the face of a male. He was on the ground, and so were the other two. Dodgepaw and Angelpaw were showing their claws to a female with a burst of orangey red hair, while Hidingstrike had cornered a second male. I happily reported this to Joystar, and the two of us went into the den followed by Severedtail.<p>Joystar gave the command to back off, and the partol was happy to oblige.The first male said something to the others, then stood up. The apprentices dropped into crouches and hissed. Severedtail unsheathe his claws. Joystar glared icy claws at him. Then she spoke. "We will not do anything more to you or your friends if you leave now." What happened next almost stopped my heart.<p>He spoke back, and I understood.<p>"Have I landed in Clan territory? Cuz I'm surrounded by a buncha angry cats."<p>I was surprised to see that Joystar did not seem at all surprised. "Yes, you have," she declared. "Your eyes look familiar, yet your face does not. Have we met?"<p>The Twoleg squatted and peered into Joystar's eyes. "Have we met? Your pelt looks so familiar, yet you are so much older..." His voice vanished for a moment, then returned. "Joykit?" <p>Joystar laughed. "I've come a long way. I am now known as JoySTAR." <p>I watched the exchange in shocked silence for a moment before I spoke up. "You know this Twoleg?" <p>"I did not realize who this was before, but it can only be the Doctor. He rescued (Damn. Outta space.)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 9, 2014

    RIP Fred

    We will miss you... may you live forever in the land behind the curtain.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 8, 2014

    1. Prank of the Century (Harry Potter)

    A/N: Welcome to my random collection of one-shots! This is Magi&#1046al here, writing fanfiction till she can't keep her eyes open for another five minutes! Yeah, I typically stay up til 11 or 12 PM on Nook, but of course there's the days like this one where I'm up til two. T
    Well, two thirty. Anyway, this one-shot or short story takes place slightly after the Battle of Hogwarts. I might write a story based off of this concept, but for now it's just a one-shot. If you don't know what Harry Potter is, I feel no shame and completely mean it when I say this: you suck. Because, honestly, who doesn't know what HARRY POTTER is?! | <p>

    The Weasley family had been devastated by the loss of the beloved Fred Weasley. Ron felt empty without the constant humor of his brothers at home; Molly barely spoke for a week, mourning the loss of her son; Percy actually missed the minor explosions coming from the twins' room; Arthur spent a lot of time trying to comfort Molly; Bill tried to cheer everyone up and failed, but decided to focus on the fact that he was going to have a child soon; Charlie spent a lot of time sitting silently and remembering; and Ginny had tried to get over it and focus on school. However, none of them was affected nearly as much as George. <p>

    George's entire world had been torn apart. He and Fred meant to do so much together; they were going to rise to the top and revolutionize the world of pranking. There seemed to be a part of him missing, as though someone had chopped his arms and legs off. George hadn't even touched an Extendable Ear or apparated around the house since before the battle, and it had been two months.<p>

    Right now, George was sitting outside in the garden. He was staring blankly into the sky and thinking about what he would do next. He couldn't possibly close the joke shop; it would change the lives of soon-to-be Hogwarts students and make them so happy. <p>

    Shaking, George took out his wand. There were tears in his eyes. He whispered a few small words. <p>

    "Expecto Patronum," he said, and recieved no result.<p>

    George then saw his brother's face in the weeds and abruptly began sobbing. <p>

    George heard a voice exactly like his own. "Hey, Georgie." <p>

    He looked up and almost screamed. <p>

    "FRED?!" <p>

    George jumped up and wrapped his arms around his brother. He was still crying, but less. "How the bloo<_>dy h<_>ell—" He stopped and pulled his arms away.<p>

    "I had to fake dying. The Death Eaters almost got me and I knew that you needed me, so I came up with a solution. Remember that Copy Charms kit we started on? I made somethig like that, but it can create the illusion of the Killing Curse." <p>

    George was nodding. "Wait a minute. MUM! DAD! COME HERE!" <p>

    Molly arrived at the back door seconds later. The second she saw Fred, covered in vines and mud, looking as though he ha just come out of a hole in the ground, she did one thing. <p>

    She fainted.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 8, 2014

    Lin ☼

    T-T Tears of joy. You see these tears of utter joy? Thank you so, so very much. I love it.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 3, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted October 20, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted June 12, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 11, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 17, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 14, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted July 28, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted February 11, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted June 13, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

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