A Coup At A Secret Base [FICTOID]

The captain lay pensively under the juniper tree on the outskirts of the desert.

The helicopter from headquarters would arrive shortly, and in it the man who would solve all their problems.

The supreme leader had gone berserk, but since driving out all the opposition and either exiling or imprisoning them or worse, there was no one to stand up to him.

He’s got gazillions of followers who worship him as a god, the captain thought, yet they starve and die of sickness, and our once beautiful country is looted.

It has to stop.   It must stop.

“Are you waiting for me?” an elderly voice called from behind him.

The captain whirled and saw a naked old man floating in mid-air in the lotus position.  “Who are you?” the captain asked.

“Ah, who indeed,” said the naked old man.  “We could be here all year discussing the implications of that question, but I’ve been told you have a more pressing need.”

“Yes,” the captain said, explaining how the supreme leader had waylaid the government and was driving the country to ruin from his bunker deep inside his secret base.

“Say no more,” said the old man.  “I shall take care of it.”

“How?  What can you do?  You’re naked.”

“Hmm, yes, perhaps it would be more seemly for me to be dressed when I see him.  May I borrow your bandana?”

The captain handed over his bandana and the floating old man wrapped it around himself as a breach-clot.  “Very well, let’s go.  I’d like to finish this by dinner time.

“Say, what are they serving for dinner at the base tonight?”

“Tacos,” said the captain.

“Mmm, tacos…”

© Buzz Dixon