View allAll Photos Tagged Serial
Get project details:
About serial LCD kit: www.buildcircuit.com/serial-lcd-do-it-yourselfdiy-kit/
Assembly: www.buildcircuit.com/how-to-assemble-serial-lcd-kit/
.
.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on April 15th 2015
CREATIVE RF gty.im/tbc MOMENT OPEN COLLECTION**
.
.
.
BABUSHKA - SNAPSHOT OF A SERIAL KILLER (Part Five)
.
.
ДРУЗЬЯ с близкого расстояния
FRIENDS AT CLOSE QUARTERS
.
.
Borodino, West of Moscow
.
.
Sometimes a man's beliefs are stronger in essence than the sum total of his knowledge.
Sergei Korchinskaia knelt painfully upon the grassy knoll by the beautiful stone monuments of высоких скал , The High Rocks in the village of Borodino, approximately one hundred and fifteen kilometres West of Moscow, far from the casual glances of the general public who normally frequented this hauntingly beautiful location in the glory of the summer months.
In approximately three and a half minutes from now, his life would come to an abrupt and violent ending. And in his mind, he was already dead, counting down the precious seconds of those final minutes with a mind that longed for release from the shackles of conformity, the pain of loss in this tortured life.
Locked and chained, the giant steel gates rattled in the cool morning breeze far off in the distance as Sergei struggled to ease the waves of relentless discomfort in his tightly bound hands that ached in spasms behind his bruised and battered back. Blood seeped from slowly congealing wounds to his facial features, his skin puffy and oversized from the fists that pounded relentlessly until he was conscious no more. Ribs shattered by baseball bats, teeth dislodged and lips enlarged and inflamed, his inherent sense of dignity and pride allowed him the indulgence of repeating over and over his allegiance to the KGB with shallow breaths and faltering voice spoken with gritty determination through the agony of his injuries.
" I , Sergei Korchinskaia, having been appointed to the Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti Armed Forces, do accept such appointment and do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Knights of Glory against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter, so help me God "
To uncaring ears his words, repeated over and over with increasing urgency and unquestionable belief, lips spitting blood and saliva which pooled in the swollen recesses of his mouth, would have sounded like the ramblings of a mad man, a fool, incapable of coherency of thought or speech. To Tatiana, those same words cut deep into the confines and recesses of her heart and soul, burning like flaming torches as she relived the magic of those formative years with Sergei as her teacher, her mentor, her lover, even.
The perpetrators of her esteemed colleagues injuries stood yards away within the sanctuary of the ancient rocks, trading sexist comments with one another on the prospect of a female assassin botching the killing of this worthless dog. Tatiana had arrived as commanded, ready to dispatch the most senior rat in the sequence of hierarchy that Dmitri had unearthed whilst deep undercover. A destination on the pre paid cell phone, the image of the intended mark strangely absent, a rendezvous with with the two ignorant buffoons before her. Little had she realized that Sergei, for so long now such a significant piece in the jigsaw of her life, would be her next mark.
Eyes disbelieving, a heart that sank into the very depths of sorrow, within touching distance of a highly revered and decorated warrior, it now fell to her to execute the man she called, Сергей моего отца (Sergei my father).
Directly responsible for the overseeing of performance and actions of all military personnel, Sergei had been one of the most respected G5 army general's within the KGB. Appointed by the High king himself, he had proven himself time and again as a supreme master tactician, a valiant soldier, a leader of men, a warrior of the highest order in a long and distinguished career that somehow mattered little now given his circumstances. But more than this, he had also been a friend.
Tatiana fought hard to control her emotions, the unfamiliar sensation of eyes that flickered without control and the pooling of liquid within the moist corners, testing her inner resolve as she gently placed her left hand upon Sergei's head, standing behind him and looking down on his shaking torso. As flesh touched his torso, he gave a smile, realizing at once who his executioner was from her pleasing scent and the reassurance within that simple gesture.
" I hoped it would be by your hands ", he managed to blurt amidst the debris and carnage of a mouth now swollen and broken. " If a man's moment of death is to come, what better than at the hands of one who has loved him during his life "
Ten years her senior, the colour having left his hair now confirming the years of stress and strain that he had endured in such a high ranking position, this was the man to whom she owed everything, her freedom, her knowledge, the very awakening of her spirit and soul.
No room for sentimentalism now though, despite her longing to relive those memories of the past as she moved slowly around until she was standing directly in front of the battered, though unbowed man. She sensed the thugs eyes behind her running up and down her form, undressing her where she stood as one laughed as he made a rubbing gesture towards his crotch to his companion. Observed from her peripheral vision, did the fool realize how lucky he now was to be alive as Tatiana tried to block the men out as she looked down at her fallen comrade.
Through the pain and blood, he raised his eyes up and looked deeply into hers, still speaking the words of the oath he so honoured and cherished as a form of final defiance before the inevitable act of brutal finality. In a heartbeat his murmurs ceased as a smile of sorts formed upon his lips, grateful eyes falling upon his personal prodigy, the child he had witnessed as she emerged through the ranks, like a butterfly from a cocoon, albeit a butterfly of the most venomous and deadly kind.
" Be careful my beautiful Babushka. Corruption and betrayal are the closest of bedfellows, and they sleep with one eye open, always. " Tatiana moved as if to place her right hand gently upon his cheek, his head turning away before any contact could be made, a mouth ejecting the pooling blood as he spat into the ground and choked back the tears that flowed from his red eyes.
“ Why, Sergei? “, she asked with genuine concern for the plight of her former mentor and friend. Sergei raised his head once more and looked her deep in her eyes before replying solemnly.
“ Sometimes it is better not to question 'Why', my beautiful Babushka, when the truth of the matter lies so simply with the 'If'.
At that moment the two thugs watching from the rocks jeered and interjected with a stream of vitriol towards the words of the injured captive, the larger of the two, two hundred pounds, thick set, fat hands and muscular arms marched over to where Sergei knelt and punched him full on the mouth, sending him sideways under the impact as his jawbone audibly cracked.
" You speak only when invited to you piece of worthless shit, or else I'll cut out your deceitful tongue and feed it to the Crows! ", he snarled like an angry dog, saliva exploding from the corners of his mouth as he pulled back his arm as though ready to strike once more.
At that moment, high on emotion and racked with pain and guilt, Tatiana pulled her trusty steel blade from it's soft leather pouch, thrusting it forwards until it rested against the thugs own throat, the razor sharp blade making contact with his nervous flesh as a trickle of blood oozed from the paper cut laceration now made. Point made, Tatiana released her grip on the blade, throwing it downwards where it embedded itself in the soft ground a few inches away from Sergei.
Hearing the hammer of a pistol being cocked, Tatiana looked up to her right, the barrel of a nine millimetre in the hands of the other guard aimed squarely at her temple, animal aggression in those dark eyes as his finger teased the trigger.
" I should kill you now you fucking bitch. The mighty assassin huh? Let me tell you now girl that from where I am standing you don't seem so impressive, just tits and ass like all the rest unless you have a big gun or a blade in those pretty little fingers of yours. "
Retribution was decisive and swift.
In a heartbeat, Tatiana had bent her knees, gathering up the sunken knife as it lay in the soft Earth in her right hand, launching it in under arm fashion straight into the guard's upper left thigh with precision. Releasing his grip on the pistol in his hand under the pain of impact, the man reeled slightly backwards, clutching the embedded blade just as Tatiana had reached his position. Her right hand grabbing and twisting his left, snapping his wrist with a crunching sound as he screamed out in agony. Continuing without hesitation, she yanked the arm downwards and round behind his back, breaking his elbow, before landing her own right elbow square into his face, his nose crushed upon impact. Using him as a shield against the first thugs raised aim, she collected the stricken pistol and pointed it his way.
Eyes red with anger, lips flaring, she looked the second thug in the eyes, her breathing shallow and fast as she calmly stated, “ Not another word from your worthless lips, or I swear I shall not be responsible for the consequences “ The second man shrugged his shoulders, dropping his pistol to the ground and raising both hands into the air in submission as Tatiana signalled him further away and pushed the first man to the floor in abject agony.
Retrieving her trusty blade with little consideration for the massive tissue damage afforded the fallen man, Tatiana returned to Sergei, placing the serrated edge between his bound hand and slicing the plastic tie with a swift upwards glance.
"I remember the days when we bound our victims hands with real rope, not cable ties. What's happening, is the KGB economizing these days since the cold war ended? Impotent as well as toothless! Whatever next, I wonder, potato guns instead of Walther nine mils! ", she quipped.
Free from the shackles that had bound his hands behind his back, Sergei swayed in the breeze, internal injuries now conspiring to render him all but unconscious as he placed a bloody hand upon her arm and tried with all his might to warn her.
“ They killed my sweet Natalia, Tatiana. What had she ever done to deserve such brutality? My sweet sweet nightingale has been taken from me. I have nothing to live for now that she is gone."
Tatiana processed the information received, tears flowing from her eyes, as she placed a hand gently upon Sergei's.
“ No, my beautiful Babushka. I cannot allow my death to lie on your conscience. I am tired now, I am broken, I have no longer the will to fight. Be careful, my angel, there are forces at work here far more devious than you could ever imagine, that strike at the very heart of our organization, hoping to destroy each and every one of us. Beware your shadow, trust nobody and sleep with one eye open always. But then, I guess you always have, have you not? Soon I shall be reunited with my Natalia, but you must do something for me, Babushka, for the sake of our friendship, for the sake of the very oath we undertook..... "
To untrained eyes, the brief sunspot far off to the right in the beauty of the ancient rocks would barely have registered as a matter of significance. To Tatiana, peripheral vision as finely tuned as an animal prowling in the wilderness who's very life depended upon such keen senses, it was a defining moment that prompted her natural fight or flight instincts. Even so, the blood spatter from Sergei's head, mixed with cranial bone fragments and brain matter still invaded her facial flesh like a glass of fine full blooded Chianti thrown over the pretty dress of a mistress by a vengeful wife. Sergei, naturally died instantly, his eyes stunned, body limp and lifeless, falling forwards into the soft ground as Tatiana used the cover of the rocks before the second sniper round which proved a perfect kill shot for the first of the two thugs too slow to react to the situation and still loitering nearby.
Before his thick skull had even registered the shot on Sergei, the fool was dead, body pushed backwards under the impact of the high velocity trajectory, slumping to the ground with a trickle of blood oozing from the sublime full metal jacket that had embedded itself straight between his eyes. The second thug, still nursing wounded pride and broken bones was an easy third round, shielding his eyes from the sun which permeated his vision on the ground, searching desperately to catch a glimpse of the gunman's location, he could almost track the bullet with his name on it as it sped towards him with venomous intent. The shell entered through his left eyes, and audible squelching noise upon impact as his body shook and moved backwards, lifeless and limp in an instant.
Tatiana meanwhile, used her wile and cunning, using the stricken corpses as cover as she darted towards the safety of the High rocks which had stood for centuries before mankind had even evolved, and now offered her the sanctity of her freedom, the gift of her life. A good operative makes a hasty retreat in the face of overwhelming odds. The best operatives are gone even before their assailants have realized.
Sometimes you have to choose which battles you are capable of winning, and those which are already lost.
.
Rewritten in July 2011
Original story penned in August 2010
Photograph taken on September 2nd 2010 at the High Rocks, Tunbridge Wells, Kent, England.
Nikon D700 50mm 1/15s f/2.8 iso200
Nikkor 50mm f/2.8. UV filter.
Mercedes portable typewriter, serial number 100330.
This machine needed thorough cleaning from lots of dust and grease, now it is "almost" ready for action! Still needs some tinkering in its mechanical guts, but basically it's a great quality machine.
Meervoudig Beppe Martha (rechts) vertelt Abuela Luceida hoe je babysokjes aandoet. Dat gaat hier wat moeilijk want León is geboren met klompvoetjes, die volgens de orthopeed heel goed te verhelpen zijn. Maandag komt hij voor het eerst in het gips.
Multiple Beppe (Frisian for grandmother) Martha shows newbie Abuela (Spanish for grandmother) Luceida how to slip babysocks onto a babyfoot. A bit tricky here, because León has two clubfeet, which will be treated by the orthopedist. Monday he will get his first cast.
20-mm Oerlikon Anti-aircraft Machine-gun Mk. II, (Serial No. S28056).
Museu dos Combatente in the Fort of the Good Success.
This attraction is right beside the Tower Of Belem in Lisbon and it a fort built in the 1700's. Contains the Museum of the Combatentes.
Get project details:
About serial LCD kit: www.buildcircuit.com/serial-lcd-do-it-yourselfdiy-kit/
Assembly: www.buildcircuit.com/how-to-assemble-serial-lcd-kit/
vijaytamilserial.com/deivamagal-sun-tv-serial-actress-pho...
Deivamagal Sun Tv Serial Actress Photos
Get project details:
About serial LCD kit: www.buildcircuit.com/serial-lcd-do-it-yourselfdiy-kit/
Assembly: www.buildcircuit.com/how-to-assemble-serial-lcd-kit/
Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit - The Desolation of Smaug film Movie Poster Standee Billboard near Times Square on 42nd Street and 8th Avenue Broadway in New York City - Lord of the Rings - New York City J R R Tolkien part 2 two serial Halloween fright creature shadow 2013 NYC 11/26/2013 art mural American
Bientôt 13 ans que je suis dans mon taf ; Depuis longtemps j'avais en tête cette série de portraits de ceux avec qui je partage la barque. Une série qui s'égrènera au grès des portraits glanés de-ci, de-là : Serial Butcher.
Retrouvez-moi sur : www.facebook.com/gnomeinvisible
Police are investigating reports of a man who follows young women in retail stores, cuts them and slips away. Most recently, officers responded to the Forever XXI Store in Fair Oaks Mall Monday, July 25 around 5:30 p.m. for a report of a woman who suffered a one and a half inch wound in her buttocks.
Anyone with information is asked to contact Crime Solvers by phone at 1-866-411-TIPS/8477, e-mail at www.fairfaxcrimesolvers.org or text “TIP187” plus your message to CRIMES/274637 or call Fairfax County Police at 703-691-2131.
Police are investigating reports of a man who follows young women in retail stores, cuts them and slips away. Most recently, officers responded to the Forever XXI Store in Fair Oaks Mall Monday, July 25 around 5:30 p.m. for a report of a woman who suffered a one and a half inch wound in her buttocks.
Anyone with information is asked to contact Crime Solvers by phone at 1-866-411-TIPS/8477, e-mail at www.fairfaxcrimesolvers.org or text “TIP187” plus your message to CRIMES/274637 or call Fairfax County Police at 703-691-2131.
Stinson L-5 Sentinel
USAAF Serial: 45-35046
Civil Registration: N63373
From Wikipedia:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stinson_L-5_Sentinel
The Stinson L-5 Sentinel was a World War II era liaison aircraft used by all branches of the U.S. military and by the British Royal Air Force. It was produced by the Stinson Aircraft Company. Along with the Stinson L-1 Vigilant, the L-5 was the only other American liaison aircraft of World War II that was purpose-built for military use and had no civilian counterpart. All other military liaison airplanes adopted during World War II were lightly modified "off-the-shelf" civilian models.
Capable of operating from short unimproved airstrips, the L-5 "Sentinel" delivered personnel, critical intelligence and needed supplies to the front line troops. On return flights, wounded soldiers were often evacuated to rear area field hospitals for medical treatment, boosting the morale of combat troops fighting in remote areas. L-5s were also used for aerial photography, controlling vehicle convoys, para-dropping food, medical supplies and ammunition, laying communication wire, distributing propaganda leaflets, spraying pesticide, transporting prisoners, and directing fighter-bombers to ground targets. The L-5 was also popular with generals and other high-ranking officers for fast, efficient short-range transportation.
After tests on land, the system was first tested in September 1943 for shipboard use with an installation on the motor ship City of Dalhart. Staff Sergeant R. A. Gregory made ten good takeoffs and hookups with a Stinson L-5 light plane. During the Battle of Okinawa, L-5s operated from an LST using the Brodie landing system which allowed a light aircraft to take off and land without a flat surface by snagging a wire hung between two booms. One of the L-5s that used the Brodie system off Okinawa is now on display in the Boeing Aviation Hangar facility of the Smithsonian's NASM's Udvar-Hazy Center annex at Dulles Airport just west of Washington, DC.
The USAAF, US Marines, and US Navy used this aircraft in the European, Pacific, and Far East theaters during World War II, and in Korea during the Korean War.
The Navy and Marine version of the L-5 through L-5E were designated OY-1, and all these aircraft had 12-volt electrical systems. The 24-volt L-5G became the OY-2. Neither the L-5G nor OY-2 saw combat during World War II because production did not begin until July 1945, just weeks before the war ended, but they were used extensively during the Korean War. The British Royal Air Force (RAF) procured 40 L-5s and 60 L-5Bs, and designated them Sentinel Is and Sentinel IIs respectively. These aircraft were used exclusively in the India-Burma theater of operations.
After World War II, the L-5 was widely used by the Civil Air Patrol for search and rescue work. Many other countries also received L-5s after the war, particularly India which received 200. A number of these went to Pakistan after the partition of India in 1948. From 1950 in India, L-5s were used by flying clubs to teach civilian pilots until about 1973 when a lack of spares forced their retirement.
Photo by Eric Friedebach
Artpolice, 1974-1994
From: > 25 March 2012
In Numbers: Serial Publications by Artists Since 1955 / The Themersons & Gaberbocchus Press
Institute of Contemporary Arts, The Mall, London SW1Y 5AH
For more listings, see the Eye events page: blog.eyemagazine.com/?page_id=158