Well, this is awkward, I thought, staring blankly at the wall. And it was awkward. Not only had I been transmogrified (which I'd thought only happened in Calvin and Hobbes), kidnapped, and threatened with torture unless I helped fight a war in which I should have no part, the way I had been tied up was cramped, uncomfortable, and, well, awkward. To me it was just adding insult to injury.
Leon the Chameleon might have thought he was going incredibly fast, but I figured the little plane was only making about 25 to 30 mph. I wondered in which direction we were going. Time ticked by. I felt I would go nuts if I didn't say something, but talking to amphibians in airplanes who had been sent to assassinate me wasn't very high on my list of favorite things to do. I vowed to keep silent if it killed me. Maybe this was the first way of torturing me for information. Somehow they must have found out how fond I was of talking.
After about forty minutes, I fell asleep.
A stutter of gunfire smacked the side of the craft, barely missing the pilot. Boy, did I wake up fast. We were hurtling toward the ground at a speed that made our previous velocity seem like snail pace. The chameleon cussed himself blue (literally) and desperately tried to get the plane to glide. When that didn't work, he looked back at the fast receding sky and glared impotently at our attacker, a sleek blue miniature... I don't know what. All I knew was that I had never before seen a flying craft that shape. It looked like a piece of modern art, and I was amazed that the thing could even get off the ground. Then we hit.
How we survived escapes my understanding to this day. Correction: how The Great Leon survived. He wasn't wearing any type of safety restraint and by all rights should have been killed. I merely fell off the back seat onto the floor. Fumes and smoke made me cough and gag until the chameleon grabbed me and dragged me out of the wreckage.
"What the hell was that?" I screamed at him, once I could speak again.
He snarled and pointed his gun at me again. "None of your business, kid."
I shut up.
Then he glanced at a device on his wrist. From the expression on his face, I suddenly realized that he was the one in the awkward situation now. His radio had been destroyed and he had a prisoner. I couldn't walk unless he untied my legs. I smugly pointed this out to him.
He was not happy. (Understatement of the year.) But he had no choice.
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