The Cigar that launched a thousand battles.

Static came over the radio as Jonas entered the driver's seat of his truck. The radio on his waist had been active all day, Messages from El Dorado, Messages to ensure he did his duty. Jonas put the bronze key in the ignition and the truck roared to life, the Loud noise of a Deisel engine was new to him, the world's oil supply had baisicly ran out almost two decades before he was born and here he is driving a fossil of a vehicle.
"Jonas!" a voice splurred over the radio, "It is time, is everything in it's place?"
"Yes", Jonas answered in a very calm almost peacefull voice.

"Good" the anonomys voice said, " You have the go ahead to proceed"

Jonas pulled the large blue truck out of the parking lot where it had been sitting for the last five monthes, in it's absence it left a darker shade of ashphalt, it's shilohet clearly outlined. Jonas drove the truck throguh inersections not bothering to stop and obey traffic law's, why should he? no one was out except for mabye the randomly scattered homeless citizens that stood around their small fires.
The normal population was worried, it was the Eve of the elections and there was something in the air that just felt all to wrong.

After about ten minutes of navagating what seemed to be a maze of buildings, Jonas finnaly came to a halt outside a large building. The building had many white pillar's supporting a clean marble roof, stairs led up to large Oak door's that led inside the structure.

Jonas picked up the radio and mumbeled what seemed to be a poem to the machine, one of his thumbs pressed firmly against the "Talk" button.

Now the light she fade's and darkness settles in......but I will have faith, I still have pride withen.....because althoguh I die, our freedom will be one, thoguh I die...La Resistance lives on...

Not a moment after the final word was said, he dropped the radio and he slammed his foot to the trucks acceleration pedle. The large Truck when rushing up the stairs at great speeds, the whole chasis shaking violently. The truck smashed into the doors and the oak exploded into a shower of wooden splinters flying in all direction. The truck spead throguh the center of a large room covered in banners and lined around the walls with tabels, the vehicle smashed through two of the tables and came crashing into a pillar on the far side of the room. Jonas was imediatly thrown forward and he smashed his head against the steering wheel. Moments later he regained Conciusness...He looked at a picture of his sister that was tapped to the center of the weel. He took a long meaningfull gaze at it and then without taking his eye's off of it, he drew a lighter from his pocket.

Jonas looked at the lighter, then at the picture...he pondered about what he was about to do...he started to daydream about his youth when his training kicked in, he ignited the lighter, its blue and red flame glowing in the darkness of the truck. He lit a cigar that he had taken out of the clove box, he took a deep inhale of the cigar and then took it in one of his hands as he blew out the silver smoke. He looked at the picture again, and then threw the cigar into the back of the truck.

The fine cigar spun throguh the air numerouse times before landing on what was a large puddle of jet fuel, on top of the puddle sat crates of high explosives and jars or nitroglecerin.

As the Cuban masterpiece landed into the lake of fuel, it ignited, there was a bright flash then a massive explosion.

Outside the building blew apart as stone and steel rained down from the heavns onto the pavement below. a thick black smoke filled the night sky and drifted upwards twords the moon..

Thousands of miles away on the island of Cuba, two men sat in a run down bar.

"It is finished sir" one man said as he took off a pair of large round headphones.
"
"May the Martyr's sacrafice never be forgoten" the other man said, standing behind the man in the chair.

Thunder smashed and rain began to fall, it fell harder than ever.