Jasmin and Damir drove to an old deserted warehouse in the middle of the country.
Jasmin backed the car to a loading dock around back. Then they went inside and carried a crate of Bosnian land mines to the car.
Jasmin mumbled, “Our cache of weapons is growing.”
“But we don’t have enough. We must get more.”
“Boss, how much do we need.”
“Once we fill up a whole warehouse, then we’ll have enough.”
Then they carried the crate to the car and positioned it on the car’s back bumper while Jasmin fished the car keys from his pocket and opened the trunk. Then they carefully slid the crate in the trunk.
Damir continued, “We’re not going to let the Serbian military get the upper hand for the next Bosnian War.”
“Don’t worry boss. We’ll win the next one.”
“But we’ll be old. The next Bosnian War should start in 2040, and we only have this,” Damir stated as he pointed to his head.
“How’d you know the war will start in 2040?”
“We always have a war every 50 years. It’s been that way since the Middle Ages. And those bastards almost won the last one.”
“But we’ll have to wait 30 more years.”
“Not unless we strike first. Victory goes to those who take the first initiative.”
Then they started chuckling, and Jasmin slammed the trunk.
Jasmin drove the car fast while Damir napped on the passenger side. They returned to Tuzla in no time, and Jasmin dropped Damir off in front of his house.
Exiting the vehicle, Damir said, “We’ll meet at the house at nine. I have some errands to do. Make sure that Serbian bitch is taken care of.”
“Yes sir, boss.”
After the car door had slammed shut, Jasmin accelerated to the intersection as the wheels screamed in excitement.
Damir walked into his house and unlocked his door. As he opened it a little, his black French poodle barked and hopped up and down excitedly.
“Now boy, did you miss your papa?”
The poodle sat next to Damir’s foot, wagging its tail furiously while Darmir patted his dog on the head, “Good boy. Just like a trusty soldier.”
Then Damir went to the cupboard, grabbed a packet of dog food, and poured it into the dog’s dish. He filled the dog’s water dish and threw the food packaging away.
The dog ran to his food dish and gulped down his food in a couple of bites.
Then Damir went to his bedroom, changed into dress clothes, and returned to the kitchen, grabbing the dog leash, “Now, boy, you ready for a walk?”
The poodle hopped up and down next to him while Damir bent over and fastened the leash to the dog’s collar. Then he led the dog outside into the cold, winter night for his daily walk.