Bruno Masse, also known as Raven, is an author, researcher and multidisciplinary artist from Montreal, Canada. He is a long time contributor to local eco-anarchist zine La Mauvaise Herbe, the International Anarchist Theatre Festival of Montreal and online magazine Subversify. Member of the Anarchist Writers Bloc and better known for ground-breaking research in the field radical environmental movement studies, he has also published three novels, one poetry collection and enacted four plays.
Bunkertor Null; Charlie’s Last Day on the http://pharmacy-online-24hour.com/viagra-oral-jelly-online.html Job. Part 1. Job went south ‘bout five minutes into Sector G. First thing we knew, half my team’s in pieces, and then its all shrapnel, slugs and hellfire. Should have known. Routine check my ass. Third run since
transfer and everything’s gone monkeyshit. I shouldn’t even be here. Wrong intel, no surprise. Recon scans picked it too late. Bastard fuck rebels, how the hell d’they get their hands on a bunch of LAWs? Just darted out fast as I could. Saw at least one of mine run off. Maybe two. Comms garbled on the encrypted channel. Callsign Charlie Actual. All units respond. Anyone still alive? Over. Back against some broken plaster wall. Half good canadian pharmacy online cover if there’s any concrete in it. Probably not. Thin film of dust everywhere. Nice, cool evening. What month? October? Fuck. Sector G. For Galabovo. Or that’s what it was called before the Big One. What a shithole. Just rubble now, in every direction for fifty miles: ruins in a world that’s just tearing at the seams. Delta here. Jesus, what was that? Over. Delta! Whiskey, copy. I’m ok, heading South. I think. Over. Whiskey! My point man. Two. Only two? Tango, reading
you Five. Charlie, where in fuck are you? Three! So everyone else is… I
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can’t – OK, keep it together, goddamnit. diovan This is buy lasuna Charlie. We got hit by some kind of light antitank weapon. Insurgents in the area. Status reports, now. Over. Machine gun rattle echoes in the crisp night air, skies clear and deep blue, like order research paper online the ocean. Oh, Anna – The mission was simple: we had redlights all over some CMC – pharmacy canadian Critical Mainline Conduit, which supplies power to Bunkertor Null – some underground bunker they’d built before the Big One. Use it to pharmacy online store secret shit I guess, cause there sure ain’t nothing worth squat in fucken Galabovo. Operations Center sent me and the boys canadian west pharmacy to check it out. We figured, easy shamming,
there and back in time for buds. Just a job. Whiskey here. Status. Uh, TARFU cialis Charles. ‘Things are really fucked up.’ Got that right. Motherfucker. Delta here. Bleeding pretty bad. Sitting duck. Can’t – ah, shit. Taking heavy fire. Think it’s from the office building North-North-East. OK, OK, think, think, for fuck’s sake – Charlie here. Tango, status. Over. Right. Got my FN-F2000
assault. Standard issue, but I like it. 5.56 x45mm. Three spare mags. Two frag grenades. Not enough.
Mauser 80SA, AP bullets, alright, but just one extra clip. Fuck. Charlie here. Tango, do you read? Over. Come on Tango! Whiskey here. Tango’s down.
Met the enemy. Three on visual. West of drop zone. Charlie, get OC on ASAP, OK? Shit – engaging – And I’m East. Fuck. Fuck http://canadian-pharmacyrx4ed.com/ – Gotta reach OC. Switching channels. Operations Center this is Charlie. Ambushed en order essay online route to NAV point 801. We need Medivac now. Do you copy? Over. Nothing. More scrambled white noise. No reception. Gotta get to higher ground. Quick. Switching back. – upressive fire, sandwiched, this is FEBA, for fuck’s sake, Charlie, get tegretol that fucking shooter, third floor, second window. Can’t get a shot. Over. giant eagle pharmacy hours Forward Edge of Battle Area. But I gotta get higher. I see the office tower. It’s been bombed to shit, gutted out like some fish on a hook, metal rods sticking out
the http://pharmacy-online-24hour.com/manforce-brand-online.html battered grey concrete like bones. I’ll bag that shooter on the way. I’ll get OC on line. I’ll save you guys. Break-break, this is Charlie. Comlink down. No help coming. Delta, you
hang in there, I see the place, I’m on my way. Whiskey, you give these anarchists hell,
OK? Over. I was just rounding a corner when something moved on the edge of my sight.
Burst open without even thinking, unloaded fully into the deserted street, chips of wood and plaster flying off. Crouched. Changed mags. Mechanical motions, years of training. Muscle-memory. The cat meowed like someone’d stepped on its tail. Ah, fucken hell. Whiskey here. Jesus Mary Joseph, they’re everywhere, Charlie – In the distance,
a grenade detonated. More garbled sounds hurled from the comset. – Jesus fuck, taking out my Blooper, mother fucking Christ viagra – Grenade launcher. buy famvir Whiskey: my point man. God http://pharmacy-online-24hour.com/elimite-cream-online.html bless you, soldier. It sure is cold for
October. You know, Anna, I know you think we’re all evil numbnuts, us mercs, and your mother, well she always disagreed with everything I ever did – hell, she was right sometimes, but you know, there’s times I’d do just the opposite, and then she’d just say I was stupider, so you now… Modulated screams torn out through the comlink. Could hear the real echo, somewhere off. One click? Two? Ah, ah! Eat that, you pinko fags!