Cupid 1769 did not look very much like the model cupid right now as she stood in front of the General's office. She had just returned from her latest mission and her appearance was the most disheveled that any cupid had ever looked. Her knees were caked in the sticky mud where she had knelt with the broken and twisted body of her best friend and wing man, cupid 1770. Smoke smudged her whole body except for the streaks where her tears had washed away the grime from her face.
Two years ago they had lost another cupid, but that had been in a crash. She had been returning from a mission and been fogged in, unable to find their base she had crashed into the side of a mountain. The last cupid to die from enemy action had been almost 650 years ago when she had been attempting to deliver her love arrow to a castle under siege and been struck by a flaming ball shot from a catapult.
Tears ran freely down her face and she was wracked by sobs as she stood before the General's office. She had been standing at attention for almost an hour now. She hurt inside and out and longed for a shower to wash away the mud and the tears and the blood of her friend.
1769 knew she was in very deep trouble. She just wasn't sure what she would be in trouble for. There had been so many things on this mission that she could be in trouble for. She had been responsible for the loss of the first cupid in 650 years, then she had broken the rules of engagement! She wasn't even a regular field cupid. She had volunteered for this mission to escape the doldrums of the lab where she usually worked developing new love weapons.
It had been such a long day! They had started before sunrise with the mission brief. She and 1770 had been ordered to seek a target in Iraq. It would be a very touchy mission. They were forbidden political targets and instead had to concentrate on individuals.
The intelligence division (even an oxymoron in the cupid corps) had assigned them a particularly stubborn target. They were to catch an insurgent leader who had been ignoring his wife in favor of spreading jihad and death amongst the invaders. The intel people had told them that his wife would be visiting at a specific address. They were to strike his home in the hope of not only rekindling the fire between he and his wife, but also in the hope of diverting him from his deadly deeds.
1769 felt a bit of pride when they were assigned a full weapons load of #69 arrows. The number 69 was one of her two major developments in her time in R&D. Unlike the more traditional #1 arrow which instilled a long lasting platonic love in the target, the number 69 hit them like a ton of bricks. When struck with a #69 arrow, one was bowled over with lust. Men, so hit had known to immediately dismount and screw their camels right into the sand. The problem with the number 69 was that it was short lived. One was compelled to have sex with the nearest object or person and that feeling lasted for about two weeks. After that, it was hoped that the afterglow would last.
The number 69 was the chosen weapons load for this mission because it was hoped that when hit the insurgent leader would be too preoccupied for the next several weeks to spread any hate.
It had been a long and grueling flight. Life was getting much tougher for cupids. Until 100 years ago they had flown easily and with total impunity. Then in 1903 the Wright brothers had come along and from then on they had had to worry about mid air collisions. Now it was even worse with detection radar and air to air and surface to air missiles improving dramatically. Those nasty shoulder fired missiles could even lock on to their body heat! Even worse were the radar directed rapid fire anti-aircraft guns. They had to fly low and fast and hard to avoid detection and to keep from coming in range of any air defense weapons.
