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Old 02-23-2009, 10:14 PM   #1
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Street Mission - A Prologue

Mire Eireannach is still forthcoming. However, this popped into my head and I thought I should share it.

Discalimer: Fiction. If you think any of this is true or actually happened, you should probably get your head examined.

On with the show...



27 November 1993, 1:03 AM

Below the starry skies of the largest city in Australia, Bono, The Edge, Larry Mullen, and a substitute bassist in the form of Stuart Morgan, usually Adam Clayton's backstage man, had just come offstage from one of their biggest gigs ever. The four, disc jockey B.P. Fallon, author Bill Flanagan and others were chatting in the back of a limousine on their way to their hotel after the night's show at Sydney Football Stadium. The chat grew louder over the sound of a fire truck racing by with sirens blaring, trying to keep conversation flowing.

When a second and then a third also sped by, the chatter quieted. The Edge rolled down his window and stuck his head out.

"Oh, fuck!"

The conversation died completely as the passengers all fought for a spot to look out the windows of the limousine. Above them, block ahead, a fire was blazing through the top floor of their hotel. The hotel where their usual bass player was sleeping off a hangover.

Curses and other exclamations erupted out of the band and their entourage. When the car stopped outside the fire department's perimeter, the car's occupants fought each other to get out.

Eyes stared up at the windows on the south end of the hotel. Flames were shooting out of the windows and licking the cement facade, though the firefighters were spraying the fire with all three hoses.

"Do you think he got out?" Bono asked to anyone willing to reassure him. Larry put his hand on Bono's shoulder. The group collectively flinched as another window blew out and showered glass on the ground.

Bill nudged The Edge and motioned toward the main doors of the hotel. A pair of paramedics wheeled a stretcher from the lobby to an ambulance. As the band watched and feared the worst, the paramedics seemed to be moving in slow motion. A slight breeze caught the sheet and briefly revealed a crop of bleach-blonde hair.

"No, no. No, no, no, no," Bono insisted. B.P., The Edge, and Larry had to hold him back to keep him from chasing the ambulance down the street.

While the band began to dread the possibility of their bass player's death, a small jet screamed through the sky, flying lower than it should have.

Aboard this jet, a man struggled through the grey field of sleep and too much drink. Adam opened his eyes, then shut them immediately. The buzzing fluorescent bulbs hurt both his eyes and ears. He hadn't yet fully slept off his hangover. He forced his eyes open again and examined his surroundings. Gone was the comfort and luxury of his Sydney hotel room. This was probably the worst airplane he'd ever ridden in.

He sat up and called for a stewardess. None came. He pulled himself out of his chair and went looking for the pilot. Adam opened the cockpit door and there was no flight crew to be found and the plane was stuck in autopilot. He looked out the plane's windshield and saw he was flying barely 200 feet above Sydney's highest skyscrapers.

"Shit!" Adam ran back to his seat and found a parachute next to his chair. He put it on, then reached for the release valve on the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said in a posh British accent he hadn't heard in years.

Adam turned and spotted a speaker next to a surveillance camera, trained on him. Adam gave the camera a two-fingered salute, then snapped, "Fuck you, mate. I'm not dying today."

The voice replied, "I'm afraid you already have."

Adam's brow creased. A TV next to the surveillance camera clicked on. CNN, covering the fire at the hotel.

...The fire began in the suite of Adam Clayton, bass player in the rock band U2. Fire officials believe the blaze was sparked when Mr. Clayton fell asleep while smoking...

"Fuck," Adam sighed, defeated.

"Sit down, Agent Robards," Adam cringed at the long-unused name. "You have a long flight ahead of you."

Adam doffed the parachute and dropped himself back in the chair. This would be a long flight, indeed.

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Old 02-23-2009, 10:59 PM   #2
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This looks like it's really going to be good and interesting!

Upcoming gigs: U2-Moncton-07/31/11 OMG I had so much fun! So sad it's over though.

Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
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Old 02-24-2009, 07:28 AM   #3
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I said it before, but this is a fabulous idea. Love it! I hope you can take it further.
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Old 02-24-2009, 07:32 AM   #4
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I can't believe you actually did it!

I absolutely love the concept of the story and can't wait what you have in store for us!
Originally Posted by GraceRyan View Post
And if U2 EVER did Hawkmoon live....and the version from the Lovetown Tour, my uterus would leave my body and fling itself at Bono - for realz.
Don't worry baby, it's gonna be all right. Uncertainty can be a guiding light...
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Old 02-24-2009, 05:27 PM   #5
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Old 02-25-2009, 04:26 PM   #6
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Uh, sounds different 8D
Go on!
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Old 03-01-2009, 03:08 PM   #7
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Really intresting! Can't wait to read more!
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Old 03-01-2009, 04:51 PM   #8
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i like it.
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Old 03-31-2009, 01:08 AM   #9
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This sounds really good! I'm interested to see where you'll go with this.

(Please say I'll be able to read it...)
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Old 03-31-2009, 01:13 AM   #10
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Originally Posted by Smitty_Jo View Post
This sounds really good! I'm interested to see where you'll go with this.

(Please say I'll be able to read it...)
Yes, this fic will be posted in full on Interference. ...Once I get around to writing it... The fic I'm currently working on has 6 more chzpters to be emailed...assuming anyone who read chapter 1 doesn't want to kill me with sticks.
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Old 04-02-2009, 04:41 PM   #11
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I like it so far. Can't wait for more
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Old 04-03-2009, 07:34 PM   #12
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i like it.

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