13333 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 1
13333 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 2
13333 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 3
13500 Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 4
13453 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 5
13483Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 6
13220Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 7
12935Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 8
15972Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 9
13440Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 10
13487Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 11
13628Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 12
13391Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 13
13489 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 14
11250Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 15
13228 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 16
13221CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 17
13231 CáelDefeats The Illuminati: Part 18
A Walk In the Park & Aya’sFinest Hour.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the► Podcastat Connected.
Professional, conscript, orvolunteer, they all have run away from battle.
A Note on terminology and the metaphor of Cael's World
The termsWeave of Fateand 'Weave'are interchangeable. Weave expresses the intersection ~ the sieve that all thepossible futures entered to create what we perceive as this 'now'. Fate is thekeeper of the sieve. ThePresentis what is happening rightnow. It is that infinitesimal which we interpret asReality.
TheLegendis what happens when the presentis pulled back through the weave and becomes the past. It is called the Legendbecause, as the former presents fade into the past, they blur; each becomesless precise and more open to interpretations. (It is as if you were looking atone thing through a prism; as you shift your stance, what you see appears tochange.) Within the Legend exist mystic creatures, divinities, demons, spirits,all the Paradises and Hells.
TheEndless Black Sandsis the finalresting place for all failed legends. It is the place where all is forgottenuntil even former realities break down into the Black Sands. That Alal found away to cheat this doom and retrieved Shammuramat, was truly remarkable; eventhough Fate 'balanced accounts' with him by sending Ajax and his war band alongthat path as well.
If you wonder how that was a balancing, consider this:
The only people Alal cares for (in his own brutal fashion)are Shammy, now Sakura, and his only true offspring in 5,000 years, Cáel.
Fate sent Ajax.
With Ajax available to test Cáel, how could Alal resist thetemptation to place one of the planet's greatest killer on a collision coursewith both of his loves in order to test Cáel?
TheVeilis a function of the Weave thatprotects sentient perception from perceiving the Weave and disguises theotherness of creatures of legend, unless they willingly allow themselves to beseen, which they usually do only so they can 'physically' interact with thePresent. Some sentient minds, through horrific trauma such as the Augurs' self-poisonings, through the quirks of Fate via Holy Men, Mad Prophets andDoomsayers such as Temujin, or through the touch of legends such as Ishara, cansense the fluctuations in the Veil and the things behind it. Cáel, in truth,has been shaped by all three vehicles (Ishara, the Augurs and Temujin'slegend.)
Oblivionis what awaits Reality if the Weaveever fails beyond its ability to heal itself. This threat is what keeps thecreatures of legend from constantly traversing the Weave. They have to weakenthe Weave to do so or to use powers in Reality, the greater the distortion theycreate, the greater the weakening that occurs.
End Note
(Two days ago, with thirty days left)
"That was fantastic, Lady Yum-Yum," I sighed.
"What did you just call me?" she panted softly. Wewere naked in one of our Task Force bedrooms that was actually used forsleeping, and now sex. I was still pressed against her reposed body, despiteour recent exertions. She was on her stomach, arms stretched down her sides.
She was sweaty and short of breath. She still had her witsabout her and an awareness of our situation: victory sex, me still aroused andher fingernails scratching my thighs and buttocks. My equally sticky body waspressing down on her, even though I supported my weight with outstretched handsplaced on either side of her shoulders.
"Lady Yum-Yum," I mumbled as I kissed the back ofher head. "That was the first thing that sprang to mind when youintroduced yourself." I could see her working that through her highlycomplex mind.
"When writing your memoirs, please remember to me referto me that way," she began to flex her thighs and abdominal muscles, sothat her ass was pumping against my hips.
"Only if this helps persuade you to give me a repeatperformance."
"I'll consider,," she purred, then paused to catchher breathe. "You are in phenomenal shape, young man. Do any of your otherlady-loves have pet names?"
"Nope," I grunted as I withdrew.
She had teased me with anal sex hints repeatedly, yet neverdelivered. She liked the game and the power she wielded. My body being on topof hers was only an illusion of a tactical advantage. She knew me pretty wellalready. I wasn't the kind of guy who would use physical strength to overwhelmher vulnerable position. This being so, a cerebral skirmish only excited hermore.
We waged a war that was based on intakes of breath, theshimmying of muscles and the trembling of fatigued flesh. The prize for me wasthe winning. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke played tricky-clever, but I wasbetter. And at times like this, she admitted it. She gave me what I wanted. Irolled her.
Straight, face-to-face fucking. The Lady's pulsar gazetrapped my vision. She smiled, grudgingly at first, then more and moresensually as my glans returned to her g-spot that it had scouted out earlier.This was 'surrender by the Fathom method'. She gave me what I wanted, so I tookwhat I wanted, and pleasured her at the same time.
"Mmm, you are a bad, bad boy," she lapsed into hertrashy West-End Londoner accent. It was perfect and an erotic whiplash whenadded to her native, refined manner of speech. This wasn't a trick this time,it was a treat. It was a gift, reciprocated. The tactile sensation of hercervix becoming a soft, spongey chalice for my final penetrations was icing onan all-so-luscious cake.
I tendered her a tribute worthy of my first love, Dr.Kimberly Geisler. It was strange to find a woman like her. Outside of Kimberly,I had found only one other woman who graciously offered her ultimate pleasurepaean to the hundreds of lovers who had become before. That other woman, itstill floored me, was Buffy Du, no, Buffy Ishara, First of my House.
"Oh!" and several heartbeats later,"Cáel!" several hissed series of breathes and then, "Goddess!You are better than good!"
Two thoughts collided within me:
A) I had never seen a more controlled orgasmic explosion inmy life. I was going to have to tell Buffy about this, once we were safely inbed. If it was office talk, she'd punch me through a window and that would makeAya cry. I couldn't have that.
B) Goddess? I thought she was Anglican. This needed furtherstudy. This treatment was really nice. I leaned in, kissed her. Lady Yum-Yumsmiled. "Take me to the shower. Play time is over, Cáel," and she wasback to all business.
"You are treating me like a fleshy vibrator," Ipointed out.
"But you are a very finely-trained, fleshy vibrator,you wonderful boy," she stroked my cheek. "Shower! Now!" So,like a Good Boy, International Merchant of Death and Chosen Son of a DivineAmazon Goddess, I slid off her, then cradled her in my arms as I rose from ourtotally trashed mattress.
I didn't smile when it was confirmed that I wasn't carryingher out of any romantic after-coitus gesture. She couldn't walk. Woot! It tooka bit of effort to get us into the walk-in shower and to get the water justperfect, all while keeping her cradled. She helped out by keeping her armstightly around my neck.
"Cheeky bastard," she whispered in my ear."You are gloating." Then she nibbled on my earlobe for good measure.
"Damn right," I did gloat as I let her slide downto her feet. "You are pretty sweet for an Old Chick." She wasn'tangry, oh no.
"If you were trying to get me to say, 'I'll get younext time," she licked, nipped and sucked on my nipple as if I was the onewith the mammaries in this relationship, "it worked." Double-Woot! Iwas going to get that damn four-way! I did coax a vigorous shower-quickie outof my Lady. Afterward, she shifted herself so she could get under one of thesteaming showerheads.
"Cáel, why didn't you use a condom," she mused.Gak!
"You aren't on Birth Control?" I panicked. Shelaughed at me.
"No. I've never been a fan of hormones replacement. Ilike the way I am. Do you expect the women to do all the anti-pregnancymeasures?"
"No," I gulped.
"Don't' be so worried," she laughed. "We hadunprotected sex one time. The odds are astronomical that an 'oops' happened,right?" Yes, it was a single sexual encounter, but included three firingsof the one-eyed hydra, sigh.
"You are asking a man who has five children on the way,Fathom," I cautioned her.
"Oh, I'll update my files and make an appointment toseen a local, reliable O B G Y N," she slipped back into her unflappableBritish resolve. "Get along. I need to get cleaned up," she cupped myscrotum, ", again. So scoot." I scooted.
I had updated my condom supply despite the forbiddance DotIshara, my Matron Goddess, beamed to me from the Other Side. She could onlycomplain so much. I'd upped my selection of fortune cookies and added a freshraisin chocolate brownie for my next visit with her. I had to get over to theother side of the floor to get a fresh shirt, and boxers.
Yum-Yum had ripped off my shirt (a little kinky) and boxers(a little painful). I wasn't going commando, so I decided to quick step itbefore something important happened that required me to yank yet anothersolution out of my sexually-fueled creative imagination.
How Lady Yum-Yum and I ended up in bed
The Secret Societies' long awaited war had begun inAfrica and in India. The Amazons couldn't effectively reinforce these twohomeland regions. No, my people's edge came from my stupid stunts (e.g., thefight outside that club in Chicago), the judicious application of a few kindwords and a whole lot of targeted killing on my part along with that of myAmazons.
Those actions convinced the Booth-gan (aka the Thuggee, butwe no longer say that because it irritates them) and the Coils of the Serpentto toss in their lot with their local Amazons. They did the whole 'hostageexchange' thing as well. Two children from each side. That was a no-brainer onmy part. All three concerned parties were willing to let their adults die ifnecessary. Their children were another matter.
In Asia, the Seven Pillars had made only minimal progress.We now suspected the 7P had planned to roll over the three of the 9 Clans thatwere in their Sphere of Influence, the now 6 Ninja Families, the Black Lotusand the Booth-gan in rapid succession. A preemptive strike against both theKhanate and the Ninja were supposed to cripple those two factions.
Against the Khanate, that had been a dismal failure. InNippon, the Ninja were in dire straits and would be decades recovering from theoriginal 7P blitz. But the combination of US black ops help and the infusion ofAmazons and Okinawans had staved off extinction for the moment. Strategically,these failed actions were tying down 7P resources that the largest SecretSociety had planned to move elsewhere.
In China, the Black Lotus exhibited the same resilience anddeceptiveness they'd shown in combating the Seven Pillars by themselves for thepast 65 years. The chaos gripping the PRC was a blessing from the Ancestors,the four sacred spirits (lung/dragons, phoenix, unicorn and tortoise), and thenine entities (I now really had to know this stuff.) Word that a 'dragon' hadappeared in the West had only heightened their desire to aid in our newalliance.
Those factors meant a reprieve for India. As the 7 Pillarsbegan ramping up their operations; increasing racial tensions, minor terroristaction and military and industrial sabotage; the Booth-gan and Amazon unitedresources and purpose. The Booth-gan would assassinate 7P operatives and pawnswhile the Amazons would hit 7P front companies and businesses based out of thePeople's Republic of China. (This activity also helped ratchet up India-PRCtensions and anti-PRC public sentiment in India.)
In Africa, the Condotteiri had squandered precious hoursreallocating resources before launching their assaults. Like everyone but the7P, they had been caught flat-footed by the renewal of the Secret War. TheCoils of the Serpent had never been overly antagonistic toward the Condos,since their interests rarely collided. The same went for the Coils and theAmazons.
Two factors inspired a deep Amazon-Coil bond. They were bothgroups with deep African roots and a shared Central-Western Africanspirituality. Added to that was the growing power of the Coils of the Serpentin the past fifty years. Their main opponents had been the Illuminati who had aEurocentric view. Pan-Africanism was in the Coil's best interest, but rancontrary to European economic interests.
Long term, allying with the African Amazons was a goodinvestment for the Coils. The 9 Clans relationships had already proved to beadvantageous on multiple occasions in the past. The leaders of the Coils knewtheir power was rising with the fortunes of Sub-Saharan Africa. To them, therise of the PRC and the Seven Pillars was a looming threat in the East.
They had been handed a golden opportunity to deal with thisenemy before the enemy was ready to deal with them. They had been 'gifted' withover 2000 highly-skilled, fanatical Amazon warriors as stealthy muscle to add totheir own, more subtle arsenal. For the Amazons, it was access to continentwide clandestine intelligence network that could unmask their enemies' hidingplaces.
The Condotteiri wiped out an Amazon freehold in Cameroon anda few Coils safe houses in Lagos, Nigeria. In the Republic of Mali, over 250Condo mercenaries were slaughtered at a 'secret' installation and their armorywas looted. Ebola kept breaking out in the West. The dominant regional powers,the Republic of the Congo and Nigeria, were tottering as a result of decades ofeconomic mismanagement, civic, ethnic, tribal and religious strife, corruptionand unreliable militaries.
The scene was ripe for a secret conflict as well as publiccarnage. For the Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce (JIKIT), thispresented a dilemma. They were involved with a growing global struggle thatwent far beyond the Khanate and Central Asia. Their secret society alliesstrenuously objected to bringing any more 'outsider' people into the group.
Handing over covert intelligence to other governmentalagencies in the US and UK, then telling them they wouldn't divulge theirsources went over like scuba diving with cement goulashes. Explaining to upperlevel bigwigs that they had a 'trust-based' team went nowhere. Those officialsdidn't care about a bunch of domestic/international criminals' sensibilities.
They wanted names and faces. They wanted addresses, phonetaps and bank account numbers. It would all be 'Secret', 'Top Secret',or 'Eyes Only'. It would all be vulnerable to all kinds of governmentalsubpoenas too. No threats were made from 'my' side. They'd killed more peoplethan the Black Death and the lives of a few thousand bureaucrats (and theirfamilies) in London and Washington D.C. didn't mean shit to them.
Selena did offer to kidnap some family members to get themessage across. Javiera put her hands over her ears and began singing'la-la-la' as she stormed out of the room. Lady Fathom suggested that wearrange a private meeting with the UK Prime Minister and the US President. Ittook a few seconds for Mehmet and Javiera to realize she wasn't kidding.
That was a nearly impossible task, which on this taskforcemeant we had to give it a shot. Let's just say that the US Attorney General,Eric Holder and Chairman John Jay of the British Joint Intelligence Committeethought their respective representative had lost her God-damn mind. I went tothe Khanate for help.
Twenty-four hours later Azerbaijan, Turkey, Tajikistan,Armenia and Georgia (yes, two tiny Christian nations) joined the Khanate. Theintegration of the first two nations had been in the works since the formationof the Turkic Council in 2009. For me, Temujin upped the time table strictlyfor our benefit. Turkey and Azerbaijan became the two newest states within theKhanate.
The third, Tajikistan was different and the shakiestaddition. The unoccupied title of 'Khwarazm Shah' was created, suggesting theIranian Tajiks had a special status inside the Khanate. 'Khwarazm' referencedthe Khwarazmian dynasty that ruled the last of the great, Persian-led, IranianSuper-States and dated back to the 13th century AD. 'Shah' was Persian forKing.
The announced status of Armenia and Georgia was quite a bitdifferent. They become 'Protectorates', i.e., semi-autonomous states within theKhanate who were 'vassal' states, responsible only to the Great Khan and hispersonal representative in the region (ah, that would be me.)
So, the first three entries made sense, strong geographic,ethnic and/or religious ties, plus this was part of the Khanate's agendaanyway. But Armenia and Georgia? That was the doing of the other regionalsecret society, the Hashashin.
The Caucasus Mountains were the backyard of the Hashashin.They knew who to blackmail, pinch and kill to make the 'take-over' possible.The main stumbling block was the long Khanate-Hashashin history: the Mongolshad destroyed the historical stronghold of the Hashashin, Alamut, in 1256 CE.In a way, that disaster had transformed the sect, making it move away fromtheir strict Nizārī Ismaili roots and into a more ethnically andreligiously diverse group that was centered in the Caucasus region.
Temujin made it clear to this group that he was making adeal under my auspices. Both Armenia and, Georgia (as well as the future Kurdistan,his plans for the creation of that last state were told to me under conditionof secrecy) would be part of my palatinate principality (along with Hungary, ifwe ever got there). Riki Martin defined the terms for me: I was the voice ofthose three regions in the Khan's court.
They wouldn't have to deal with Muslim Khanate officials.They would deal with me and 'my officials'. If the Khanate had a problem withmy principality, they came to me to resolve the issue. That translated to megiving a nod to the existing regimes ruling in Armenia and Georgia (along withthe infusion of a few Hashashin supporters.)
Publically the future of those three political and ethnicentities would be confirmed later. The existing governments knew three things.
1) I was that madman who had led the charge in Romania,clearly a man of bravery and humility. The odds were good that I was going tobe a man they could rely on to adequately represent their interests with thegovernment that currently mattered the most (aka The Khanate.)
2) The Great Khan thought the world of me and in thisnascent New World Order that meant way more than membership in NATO, or beggingthe United Nations to apply sanctions of dubious value.
3) There would be a change of leadership by about 2040. Childrenof excellent ethnic parentage would succeed me in this ceremonial role in theregion. These new princes and princesses would be the scions of the line ofNyilas and representatives of the various states (translation: I was going tobe sexing it up with Georgian, Armenian and Kurdish members of the Hashashin).
That would establish the three 'cadet' branches of HouseIshara (Nyilas)(which I've listed because all three alphabets are sofreaking beautiful)that could weave the Amazons, 9 Clans and thevarying ethnic identities into a quilt that could stand together as a force inthe Great Khan's inner circle. This new spate of aristocratic, 'Archer'-themedlineages would be:
1.Moisari, in Georgia.
2.Aġeġnajig, in Armenia.
3.Ram-alsham, in Kurdistan.
This fiction made the key named entities happy. Thecombination of all these events applied another jolt to the heart of the globalpower structure (after all, Turkey was in NATO) and made the US and UKgovernments back off.
By tidying up the world map, we'd brought ourgovernmental chiefs to the chilling revelation that their sole conduit forinsider information regarding the ongoing global calamity had reacted to theirintransience by simply letting them be blind-sided by events. After the fact,Javiera and Lady Fathom relayed that message very clearly.
This wasn't 'bargaining with terrorists', or blackmail.This was a reminder that the secret societies didn't have to work with theallied governments if they didn't want to. Our elected leaders still wouldn'tagree to high-level talks.
They didn't stop asking for full-access either. What theydid do was make those requests 'pro forma', with Javiera being allowed to'prioritize' the handling of requests, which was bureaucratic-ese for they werecovering their asses ('See, I gave instructions that our representative shouldforcefully raise this demand at the most appropriate moment') and thus dumpingall the heat on Javiera when the inevitable Congressional investigationhappened. It amazed me how 'my' bureaucrats were selflessly throwing away theirprofessional aspirations for the sake of a nation that could never know whatcrimes they were committing on their nation's behalf.
None of that led to my current, surprisingly happy,circumstances. No, my most recent new experience was bought with the death oftwo members of the Black Lotus, two Gurkha and one member of the British SAS.They had been members of the two teams sneaking around the PRC looking for GedhunChoekyi Nyima, the 11th Panchen Lama.
They had found the guy, killed his guardians and thenwhisked him and his family away to a Chinese military base. Those five teammembers had died stealing a PLA Harbin Z-9B helicopter. The other three membersof the teams flew their packages over to the PLA/Khanate battle lines anddelivered him to the lead elements of the closestTumens. Disorderwas the watchword of the day in Tibet.
JIKIT operators were coordinating Khanate drone and airstrikes on the Chinese military and paramilitary formations. Independence feverwas in the air and any Tibetan with a grudge and violent inclinations wastaking out his or her wrath on the isolated Chinese troops. Lhasa, the capital,was in chaos.
Already radio and TV stations in the city were declaringa Free Tibet and a general uprising. The Dali Lama was in Katmandu, Nepal.Nepalese helicopter pilots, familiar with flying over the Himalayas wereprepped and ready to fly him and the Government in Exile to Lhasa the moment theygot the 'All Clear' from the Khanate land forces. That was why I was gettinglaid.
(Current time)
I exited my temporary love nest, freshly showered and in athigh-length white robe, only to discover five Amazons, either House Heads or'Apprentices', waiting there to see me. Gathered there were Beyoncé of Hanwasuit, Arwen ofEpona, Oneida of Arinniti, Kohar of Marda and Febe, the Head of House Mielikki.Their unease, while concealed, was tickling at my senses.
"Hello," I walked over to the mini-bar for a grapefruitjuice.
Odette opened the door leading to the main office area,Odette? WTF?
"Sorry, Boss," she grinned. "Buffy wantedto,"
"Odette!, excuse me one second, my Sisters," Iaddressed my fellow members of the Council. "Odette, what are you doinghere? I told you that you couldn't get involved in these troubles."
"I know," she grinned. "Pamela hired me asher'Girl "Celebration Day" (aka Friday); whatever thatmeans."
Of course Odette didn't know the Amazon Mother Tongue andPamela wasn't teaching Odette it, thus not breaking any Amazon laws.
"What are your duties?"
"I'm the taskforce's Morale Officer. ApparentlyHavenstone is paying me handsomely too."
I groaned, rubbed my forehead which Odette took as her cueto leave.
"Oh, Buffy wanted you to know that some importantAmazons were here to see you," she gave me a parting gift before the doorshut.
"So, my Sisters, what can I do for you?" Iaddressed my audience. If it was sex, I still had seven good shots left in me.Beyoncé, my secondlongest running ally, stepped forth to address the issue.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara, I and other of your allies havebecome worried about the issue of the scheduled hunt that is supposed to takeplace at the end of your internship," she stated. "We are wonderingif you would now view this hunt as 'inappropriate,' since you are now theacknowledged Head of a First House and our Chief Diplomat?" she stabbed atthe heart of the matter. This surprise wasn't all that bad, since I had alreadyconsidered that very question.
"My Sisters I can answer that better if we step asidefrom our offices and titles and speak as simple warrior-sisters. Can we?"I asked.
The Amazons looked at one another. "Of courseCáel," Oneida piped up before a true consensus was reached. I gave theothers a chance to protest. When they didn't,
"Good, I actually have given this a great deal ofthought myself," I began. "As I see things, I can't embrace prestigewithout sacrifice, or integrity without reverence. I made a commitment within aweek of being here, jokingly I admit, to be hunted. That myth has taken on alife of its own, and that is my fault. I feel I must keep to this hasty pledgebecause I am Ishara and my house must maintain oaths, even to the death."
"That is my first concern, that I honor my ancestors,who I also think, would appreciate an oath made in jest and then kept insisterly solidarity with the rest of the Host. I also think it will be fun foreverybody. We are in for a tough time in this war and it falls to each of us todo what we can, "
"You do so much already," Kohar blurted out. Sincewe were 'outside' our official status there was no insult.
"Kohar, none of us can do too much for the Host. All ofyou have taught me that. Sometimes painfully and sometimes with passion, butalways giving me something that's made me a better person. If I can dosomething to inspire our People, I am willing to risk it. Then there is,Hayden."
"Hayden, Katrina and Tessa have all put a great deal offaith in me at some point in my career at Havenstone, risking and even losingtheir lives. I owe a debt to them and the New Directive. I owe it to themembers who supported it. Finally," I sighed then grinned, "this issomething the men of Havenstone have that is our own."
Five startled looks faced me.
"You see us as being hunted. I see it as a chance formen to prove we can be just as resourceful as our Amazon sisters," Iexplained. "This won't stop with me, and Felix. From this September on, ahandful of men will pit their wits and skills against the best the Host has tooffer. The men who succeed will be valued. Even if any are eventually captured,they still will have proven their bravery.
"You think of the men as prey. That is normal for you.I see this as being an important chance at change that you will not give men inany other way. There aren't going to be any other males resurrecting DeadHouses. How can men then gain your acceptance and respect? The Hunt. It won'tbe demeaning to usbecausethe Head of House Ishara has doneit as well.
"If a House Head does not find it demeaning, it isn't.If I don't keep my word and do this, there will be no more Great Hunts. Allwe'll have is yet another declaration of Amazon superiority over all male-kind.What's in it for us men? Even if they stay free, you still won't respect them.I cannot be disrespected while I keep the faith with the Host."
"When I win, I will set the hallmark for the next Huntand the next," I smiled. "See?"
"You can't really believe you are going to win?"Febe tried not to sound too incredulous.
"Why not?" I laughed. "I'm going to cheatlike a Mother-fucker." They didn't know what to make of that.
"Ladies, I'm racking up favors with people back fromthe dead, Goddesses and gaining the best on-the-job training Fate can provide.I'm going to kick ass."
"That's cheating!" Arwen exclaimed.
"Why?" I teased her. "There are no rules forhunting a House Head for recreational sport that I'm aware of."
"This is my baby and you bitches are going to learnthat this is going to be as much a mental challenge as physical. I'm cheatingbecause that is the Amazon way. You have been looking at this as if I'm someoutsider male who's not protected by your Laws and not as a tool I can useagainst you all."
"Damn, " Arwen muttered. "Katrina told methis was a Fool's Errand. I thought you were the fool and now it seems we are.I am, impressed Cáel Ish, Wakko Ishara." Lady Yum-Yum, still drying herhair, strolled out of the bedroom, ignored everyone else and walked up to me.She wrapped a hand around my head, grabbed a handful of hair on the back of myhead and then pulled me down for a French Revolution Kiss, the kind you couldlose your head over.
"Hurry up," she smiled after she came up for air."We have an intelligence briefing on Iran in fifteen minutes." Andthen she left without a word to my guests. I understood that. The AmazonCouncil refused to talk with our allies, choosing to operate through myself andKatrina. She was merely returning their snobbery (in her opinion).
"Cáel, who is that?" Oneida was clearly perturbed.
"One of our allies, British, I think and a Hell-cat inthe sack," I sighed happily with the intent to incense my young lover."I've got to keep my sexual skills honed to a razor's edge because I knowI'm not going to beat you ladies with either my outdoor skills or animalisticcunning."
"How was he?" Javiera asked in a conversationaltone from the other room.
"Fantastic," Yum-yum exulted. "You two are afool for keeping him at bay. Now, where can I get my next victory? I'm alreadyplotting out my strategy for round two in the bedroom. I'm not going to let himcome out on top of me next time." The closing door shut off the possibleresponses.
"You look tired," Febe noted. It wasn't an insult,or an aside to my recent sexual adventure. She was noting my energy was waningand that an emotional fugue was taking hold.
"We are fighting a war," I shrugged. "I'llgladly lose hours of sleep to save my sister's lives."
"You are not us," Beyoncé said somewhat sadly.
Again, it wasn't an insult. Every woman in this room with mecould have kicked my ass at every step of my life, until the last two months.Even then, the odds were that the best I could do was make them pay for theirvictories.
"You have been fighting your own private war forfifty-two days," Beyoncéstepped up and offered me her arm.
We clasped in the way of the Sisterhood.
"From the second day among us, you fought both Rhadaand Madi, and won, three times," Kohar stated. She had been there for thefight, but who was the third.
"Third?"
"When you went to Europe, Katrina gave us a fullbriefing on the interactions between you and her: when you knew, what the twoof you talked about that Tuesday night," Febe grudgingly admitted.
"Coming back to work was stupid. If I had to been inyour shoes, I would have made a run for it," Arwen added.
"No you wouldn't," I toasted in Arwen's direction."As an Amazon, you fight to survive," I said after a long draw on theglass. "If I ran, I could not win. Katrina would have been punished, theNew Directive would have died and the Host would have been doomed."
"What about hitting that little button and making everyAmazon dead that you mentioned at the Archery range," Beyoncé reminded me.
"That hasn't changed. I still think you are barbaric,hateful savages who murder your offspring and the sires of your children,"I explained. "Had I run, I would have been just as bad as the rest of you.I would have sanctioned the murders of the innocent. I wasn't absolutely sure,until the Thursday, but all that really did was confirm what I already knew inmy guts."
"Now you are the Head of a House and holder of a highoffice," Febe questioned, "so why do you feel we are misguided? Youhave done nothing to change our ways."
"Bitch," I chuckled. Febe bristled slightly."I've been in this job for how many days? Besides, all the past few weekshave done is prove me right."
"How so?" Oneida was edging in. For Pete's Sake,she might have well stripped naked, tied a red ribbon around her belly, stuckbows on each tit and worn a Santa's Helper Hat with a bright neon sign overhead proclaiming 'Open Before Christmas'.
"Your Ash Man isn't going anywhere, Oneida," Icaressed her cheek.
"How so?" I returned to Oneida's question."Ladies, I am not only right, but I've been right and you've been wrong everyday since the Second Betrayal. It was a betrayal alright, but it was your loyalmales who were betrayed and that is a disease that has been eating at the Hostfor 2,500 years."
That shut them up. Not only had the Keeper of the Recordssaid so, but so had the Goddesses and, in a way, Hayden's passing had onlyadded to the weight of Amazon sins.
"Thank you for coming by to discuss this with me. Andone day I hope you understand how thankful and honored you have made me feel byall five of you being here," I grinned.
"I may not be a 100% Sister yet, but you have shown mea degree of respect that was impossible for any of you three months ago. I amhumbled and honored. Please don't take this the wrong way. The Host hascompletely changed my life. I think that coming here today, you have shown thatI have changed you."
"Oh," Febe looked decidedly uncomfortable."Cáel, by August 17th, the entirety of the Amazon male breeding populationwill have been put down. No one has stopped the process." The glassdropped out of my hand. Of course not. I had been so busy thinking I was makinga difference, winning my own little battles, I had not asked them to stopsending the trains to Auschwitz.
Monstrous Reminders
Two days later, I had been exiled from the team. Honestly,they really could spare me from the goings on. Our people on the ground inTibet were working with Hana, finishing the details on the planned meetingbetween the Dali Lama and Temujin. It would be the first public appearance ofthe Great Khan. The world had never seen his face before. Now he was going toput a human face; a young, energetic Mongolian face; to his crusade.
I had pleaded to any Amazon who would listen that theCouncil be immediately summoned from their working groups in order to meet onthe matter of the executions of the males. Finally the Golden Mare allowed mefifteen minutes at the 7 am meeting the next day. That was appropriate, it wasall the time any of the House Heads were allowed.
I debated late into the night with Buffy and Helena on whowould be better to present our case. I wanted Buffy because she was a woman andI'd use any aspect of political advantage to gain those males a reprieve. Threehours before the meeting, Buffy and I agreed that my passion would mean morethan her bosom.
Hearing my appeal was the first order of business before theCouncil. I spoke for fifteen minutes in what I hoped would be the mosteloquent, stirring speech I'd ever given. I politely stopped when given thesignal that my time was up. A call was made to debate the issue. Messina gavethe rebuttal: 'The council couldn't overturn the decision of a High Priestessunless an overriding concern for the Host was evident.' (Concern meant 'Amazonswere in danger of dying')
No one else spoke. A vote was called. Not one member votedin my favor. I, of course, could not vote. I knew politically why Katrina andBeyoncé hadn'tvoted my way. The Law was the Law; and bucking the traditions while a war wasramping up wasn't prudent. I was even shown sympathy by several members. Theyweren't concerned for their males. No, I was one of 'them' now and my distressbothered them.
I stood there for forty-five minutes. I couldn't sit down. Ihad given them my word. Tears? None came. I don't recall what was discussed.When the meeting adjourned, Shawnee addressed me before Buffy could make it tomy side. "Are you seeing spirits, Cáel Wakko Ishara?" Shawnee askedsoftly.
I looked at her and then the tears came. I am told that thatby a trick of the light, my silver tears looked like a weak trail of blood downmy cheeks. I was powerless and I felt like a hypocrite. Here I was bleeding forAmazon lives, bleeding for the lives of our allies in our joint struggle, yetin this Council, I couldn't even make them understand the basic concepts ofhumanity and brotherhood.
I was angry. I wasn't angry with them. I was angry at myselffor not remembering who they were and that we were all prisoners of theirtwisted ideology. I had deluded myself into thinking they were any different attheir core. I turned away from Shawnee. Several of the SD were watching mewarily. I was armed, acting irrationally and had killed Ajax the Unconquered,or so they believed.
A hundred insults boiled forth in my mind. I had somegoodies. I knew what these bitches valued and I knew ways to verbally stab atthem. Amazons had no honor. They were survivors and because of that, theyexpected me to let go of this insane deviation from their society. The GoldenMare was the first to stand in my way. Buffy hovered, cloaked in her own fury,behind me.
"Ishara, are you well?"she asked, in Hittite. I had to think about that and bite down on the stupidcomebacks that would mean nothing to any of them.
"You are my Golden Mare, SaintMarie. I will follow you into battle and die if I must," I gulped throughmy tears. "I swear to you, if I die first, know I will be waiting for youin the halls of our Ancestors. If you die first, know I will not forget thisand prepare yourself for me. Because if I have not found forgiveness in myheart, I will hand you my hate,, with interest," I pledged.
"Restrain yourself,Ishara," she ordered.
In English I added; "You are correct, GoldenMare," I swallowed my rage.
"Good," she nodded.
"Yes. I need to restrain myself. I need to get with theprogram because, Dot Ishara knows, I've been shirking my responsibilities uptil now. I know what I need to do. I need to feel like a true Amazon; thewarrior breed with the blood of the Ahhiyawa on our hands."
"Mine is fresher than most and that is the problem. Ineed to get back to the real 'us' because going facing to face with theAhhiyawa has definitely confused me over the true fighting spirit of the Hostthat I have just been reacquainted with. I need to go out and kill helpless oldpeople and infants."
"I'm sure that will help me strengthen my solidaritywith all my Sister and be one of the team once more." I replied in apatently false-reasonable voice. "Don't worry. I will only kill those whohave no value to the Host."
"Correct yourself," she growled.
"I hear and obey, Golden Mare," I sniffed. "Iwas the one who forgot that it is the duty of every Amazon to strangle tinynewborn boys with their umbilical cords and butcher the males they no longerhave a need for ~ you know; the helpless old people," I laid on adifferent interpretation of their own, sick practices.
"While I'm getting back to our roots, I will hopefullyfind a clearer perspective on the last 317, beasts; those who are waiting tofulfill their own role in our great tradition. I will think of them, in theirstalls, or cages, or wherever it is you keep them. I will think of them,looking up to you as you enter their tiny little world.
"They will expect food, perhaps a look on your facesthat tells them they have done well today and they have made you happy. Theywill expect you to give them orders, because you allow them nothing else tolook forward to. Sometime in the next four days, you will come to these beastswho trust you for every aspect of their survival and you will lead them to someplace of disposal and slit their throats.
"You will let them fall to the ground and bleed out. Iam curious how many of them will look up at you and wonder what they did wrongto make you that upset with them. They will blame themselves while you patientlywait for their hearts to finish pumping blood out those severed arteries. Afterthat happens, you will dismember them. You will burn the parts. Then you willbury the bone shards and ashes in a trash heap.
"For them, there is no Afterlife, no cliffs, no ancestors.Their souls will awaken all alone in the Black Sands. For most of them it willbe the first time in their lives they have ever been truly alone, They will bescared because they love you and they will want to know what horrible thingthey did for you to leave them here alone.
"If there is a blessing, it is that you have notreciprocated a single ounce of their love, or given them no reason to existwithout you so they will soon be ground down into the sands they will sobriefly trod upon. Then, they will have never been. They will not beremembered. I am sure that by the end of that introspection, I, I don't knowhow will feel then, Golden Mare.
"What I do know is that on August 18th, I will be theonly one who has a chance of feeling different about what hasn't been done heretoday." I was still successfully fighting back my true cyclone ofemotions.
"How could someone like you kill Ajax?" she shookher head.
"Because none of you could," I frowned."Because for the past 2500 years, the Host has forsaken the soleprerequisite necessary to, "
"Shut up," Saint Marie glared. "Weepelsewhere. We have work to do."
"I weep for Charlotte, " I replied.
"Like any one here believes that," she growled,and then everyone around me had their guns out. Saint Marie's wasn't pointed atme. It was pointed past my right elbow. Buffy.
"Buffy, what have I told you about, " I sighed.
"Buffy Ishara, lower your weapon right now," oneof the SD chicks behind me threatened.
"Cáel, she, "
"Weapon, down, now," I commanded without lookingback at her. By the relaxed stance of one of the SD Amazons, Buffy hadcomplied.
"Take her into custody," Saint Marie said as shekept her gun pointed at Buffy.
I didn't protest, pout, or threaten a work stoppage. Mywords would be useless; they didn't understand my tears and I was the Head ofHouse Ishara and Chief Diplomat of the Host, not a self-indulgent prima donna.I believed both Saint Marie and Buffy expected me to say something.
"Cáel, she called you a liar," Buffy protested. Bythe grunts I heard, she was already being restrained.
"Buffy, didn't it occur to you that, despiteconsistently proving her ignorance of men's emotions in general and beingprejudiced againstmein particular, the Golden Mare must havebeen divinely inspired to suddenly know precisely what was on my mind?" Iinquired. Sorrow and fury were not the weapons for this task. Mockery was.
"I will let you know what fate I have decided for yourApprentice," Saint Marie deigned to inform me. She gave me a dismissivewave of the head.
"Buffy, you should have never believed that thatwoman's personal opinion of me matters to House Ishara in the slightest,"I announced without turning around. "She doesn't have our pedigree."
"I apologize," Buffy responded (to me). I'd tossedher an 'atta girl' in a way that Saint Marie couldn't acknowledge as insulting,though it clearly was. The Amazons of House Ishara, to a woman, were allformer-Runners.
They loved being members of a First House of the Host, yetthey all felt it was a reward for years of struggle and exemplary service, notsomething that had been handed to them as a birthright. We had turned ourweakness, being born outsiders, into our unifying strength. We felt worthy ofour honors. Having been dismissed, I took the opportunity leave without furthercomplications.
Katrina was waiting for me at one of the elevators. Shewarned the others off, indicating she wanted a private chat with her mostnotorious intern. The elevator opened. Katrina stepped in and I followed.Nothing was said. She made a quick call and said three unrelated words. Shewaited for a confirmation before hanging up. Our conversation wouldn't bemonitored, or recorded.
"Cáel, I know you are upset and you are disappointed inus," Katrina forced me to look into her eyes. "As someone who caresfor you and considers you a friend, I am advising you to let this one go. Youhave done many incredibly good things and there is still much more you canaccomplish. You have always known you can't win every fight."
"The important thing is that you stay in the fight.Please try?" she looked honestly upset. I had to think about that. I hadspent much of my life 'letting things go'. I hadn't let things go with Rhadaand Madi and look how much that had fucked up my life. I hadn't said 'no' toRhada when I should have. Brooke, Casper. I'd been screwing the pooch big timeby allowing myself to give a fuck about anyone else.
"Maybe Alal was right?" I whispered. "Peoplewant their needs met without sacrifice. They want to blame someone else fortheir misfortunes. They don't want to be held responsible for their ownactions. There will always be wolves and there will always be sheep."he had told me when we parted in Rome.
"We have just left a chamber full of sheep, notwolves," I turned fully toward Katrina. "Like good little sheep, theleadership of the Amazon Host bleated the Party Line and refused to takeresponsibility for mass murder. They hid behind tradition, Katrina. They hidbehind this absurd idea that there aren't other males out there who could bethe next Cáel."
"Every man brought into Havenstone should be given thesame opportunities each and every 'Runner' has. We all deserve a chance."
"That is bludgeoning a lie with another lie, Cáel.There is no 'other Cáel' out there. You are the last chance the Amazon Hosthas. Those men have been bred to be the opposite of you."
"Whenwefeel we have passed ourusefulness, we end our own existences. It is unfair to think we would keepuseless, inbred males around out of some sense of a communal society we havenever shared with them. You see this as an evil, callous and brutal gesture. Weare an evil, brutal race that hasn't the luxury of being sentimental,"Katrina counter-attacked. That she was capable of such unvarnished honesty wassomething I loved about her.
"We are the smallest Secret Society in the numbers wecan bring to bear in a fight. We do not have an extensive network of proxies towork through. Our history, until today, has taught us to be lean in thecompassion department. If you battle the past, you will get nowhere. Besides,you did do two thing of value today," she offered.
"You put the fate of our males and the responsibilityfor their deaths in our Records. Your protest was heard, Cáel. Yes, it washeard because it came from you, Cáel Wakko Ishara. No Amazon has protested thefate of males since the Second Betrayal. Today, someone did. You have to knowthat means something to us."
She was right, damn her. To the Amazons, they had allowed memy protest and it was infantile to think they did so to humor me. That wasn'tthere style. In their cold, heartless eyes, my proposal was worthy of 15minutes of their time. A tiny number until you considered how much every minutemattered to them.
"What was the other thing?" I asked her.
"You kept to your oaths with us. You didn't even try tovote," she pointed out, "even though you clearly felt passionatelyabout the issue. Amazons expect that from their fellow female Amazons. They arenot used to expecting that from males."
I thought about that. In the Amazon mirror-view of society,men were the irrational half of the species, ruled more by passions andillogical aspirations, while Amazons (females) were the creatures ofcontrolled, rational thoughts and actions.
"You also vocally reminded them that you are a man, notsome bizarre icon from the Goddesses."
I had a few things beaten into my skull as well. I workedwith monsters. Thanks to Katrina, I was also remembering why I did what I didfor the Host:, Aya, Daphne, Yasmin, those three. Maybe Europa. Lorraine was along shot. Oneida and Rhada, they were still their mother's daughters.
"Katrina, I apologize. You are right. Short of thesending House Ishara into battle against the other houses to rescue those men,I cannot save them. I cannot forget them. I am okay with hating you and all theothers for your perpetuating this crime. I'm also okay believing that one day,I'll forgive the Host too.
"It is in my nature and I shouldn't let your crimesinspire so great a hate in me that it poisons my soul. You are still going toatone, Katrina, Head of House Epona," I bolstered my sense of the perversethat passed for strategic thinking. "I want you to retrieve Kwenhamai, DeathSong, for me. I've decided I don't want the Amazons you consider virtuous.I want your Sinners. Make it happen."
When I returned to the taskforce, I garnered the same kindof worried stares I'd gotten at the Council meeting. At ten o'clock, Elsa gaveme a ring. Saint Marie had decided on Buffy's punishment for her crimes:drawing a weapon on the War Leader, and drawing a weapon in the CouncilMeeting. They were going to sear her left eye socket with a hot poker.
That would allow her to remain a useful Amazon in my Housewhile sending a strong reminder for Amazons to remain civil with one another. Iwas being informed because, as her House Head, I could appeal the ruling; tothe Golden Mare, the one who had just passed judgment.
"Let me talk to the Boss," I requested. Elsapatched me through twenty seconds later.
"State your appeal," Saint Marie said in anunwelcoming voice. "It won't make a difference, but tradition istradition."
"Immediately erase the incident in the Council Chambersbetween you and Buffy. I wanted it erased from the records. You must thenrepeal the punishment because it is now groundless. If you do that for me, I'lltell you how I killed Ajax. I'll even show you what I did," I offered.Pause.
"I am the War Leader of the Host, Ishara," SaintMarie heated-up even more. "You should be telling me this anyway."
"As Chief Diplomat, I only have to tell you, Katrina,or the Council something if it is of relevance to the Host. I deemed that theinformation wasn't relevant at the time," I countered. "I askedPamela. She's really good with all your inbred ilk and your damn laws," Ikept my voice steady. "Do we have a deal?" I could almost hear herteeth grinding.
"Very well, but don't think I will forget this,"she seethed.
"Do I have your word that you will do as I requestedfor Buffy?" I double-checked.
"Yes, you have my word," Saint Marie snapped."Now how did you kill Ajax?"
"I'll tell you," I relaxed. Pause.
"I'm waiting, damn you," she grumbled. "Let'sget this over with. I have important work to do."
"I promised to tell you, Saint Marie," I got mymeasure of revenge. "I never said when I'd tell you though, so you mightwant to get back to that important work."
"You'll get Buffy back when you tell me," shesnapped.
"Saint Marie, you gave me your word she would bereleased immediately," I explained. "While you failed to apply anytime table to my side of the bargain," came the kicker.
"You violated the spirit of that oath. It is notbinding," she simmered.
"I'm not going to bore you by rehashing the last timeAmazons broke an Isharan Oath. I have been spiritually pure with this pledgethat I tricked you into for a very good reason, Saint Marie. You are not anidiot and neither am I. You did call me a liar in public and you knew Iwouldn't lash out, because you know I didn't give a flying fuck about youropinion of me. No, you knowingly insulted me inin Englishsothat Buffy could understand," I said in a low, steely voice.
"You are more than a match for me as a tactician. As aprovocateur, you are not in Katrina's league and she's the Amazon I rate myselfagainst. You have never liked me. I'm fine with that. Taking it out on Buffy ~don't do it again as it violates thespiritof our Oaths ofSisterhood," I reminded her. I could hear Saint Marie's tooth enamelcracking. "Do I have to call every other Head of House over this breach? Ibelieve you've established that threatening to harm another Amazon officer inthe Council chamber is punishable by the removal of the secondary eye."
"I am not afraid of pain, Cáel," she growled."I am afraid that your deceptive ways will cause the Host irreparableharm." Considering she worked closely with the most deceptive woman I'dever met, Katrina, I felt that was high praise indeed.
"Though I don't think you knew it at the time, SaintMarie, you chose me for your Chief Diplomat because Iamaslippery fish. Most importantly, I amyourslippery fish.Honest, trustworthy diplomats are very limited in their utility."
"I will honor my promise to you," she calmed downslightly. She was conceding the point that she'd chosen me for my untrustworthyways. She had hoped I'd keep them focused on our enemies, not her.
"I will offer to step down if you desire," I addedout of the blue. A few seconds passed.
"I want a time table for you telling me what happenedto Ajax," she countered.
"When I get back from Brazil," I promised."I'll tell you then."
"Why wait?"
"I'm still trying to figure out who the traitor insidethe Host is," I answered. "Someone helped the Seven Pillars find ourSummer Camp. Someone helped the Condotteiri find the Hylonome as well. Budapestand the fight on the Tisza were the Black Hand's fault and those two loose endshave been dealt with," I related my worries.
"Who do you suspect?"
"I'll have a better idea when I get to Brazil and seewhat kind of ambush they have waiting for us. The more they are prepared, thesmaller the list gets," I said.
"You are knowingly walking into an ambush to find outwhat our foes know about us?" Saint Marie sounded caught unawares by bothmy cunning and my devotion to our cause.
"Can you think of a better way?"
"No, when you get back from Brazil?"
"Yes, I will keep my promise then," I reaffirmed."I promise this to you as well, Saint Marie. If you come gunning foranyone else in House Ishara except me, you will never be able to prove that Iarranged for a member of the 9 Clans to remove your daughter, That is not apetulant threat, Golden Mare. The only one acting vindictively against thecurrent interests of the Host this morning was you. Since your own oaths don'tseem to be constraining your behavior, I'm giving you my personal promise toconsider before you deliberately strike at me through my House Isharan sistersagain. Can we both get back to fighting the war now?"
"Katrina has poisoned your thinking, Cáel. Herthreatening my offspring was as stupid for her as it is for you," shemenaced.
"Parroting your words: 'Your arrogance' has poisonedyour thinking of me, Saint Marie. Threatening my Buffy was stupid'.
"Your daughter deserves to be treated in the samemanner as Buffy and vice versa," I explained. "I will extend to youmy offer to replace me as Chief Diplomat. I'll leave quietly if you think youcannot work with me, or trust me to do the best job that can be done."
"No. Both you and Katrina are twisted mockeries of trueAmazons," she sighed.
"You are also the right Amazons for the twisted tasksthat need to be done. If you ever threaten my daughter again, I will deal withyou personally and deal with the fallout when it comes," she cautioned.
"I'll take your word for that." A few secondspassed, then Saint Marie hung up.
That was that. I'd get Buffy back, though she wasn't surewhy she wasn't out shopping for an eye patch. She would have to understand thatI wasn't going to tell her the details of her release this side of some seriouspain.
Late that afternoon, I had another meeting with OT. The newswas critical, as it all too often was. The largest armored combat action sinceKursk was about to begin. In the balance was not only the Khanates only realhope of forcing a ceasefire, but the fate of Tibet as well. That wide righthook across the Tibetan Plateau was reaching its final destination.
On the Southern Flank of the PLA, six of the elevenKhanateTumensplus six supporting Mechanized Divisions weretrying to turn the Chinese Southern Flank. Against them, the PLA had musteredthree Reserve Armored Divisions, three Reserve Mechanized Brigades, one RegularArmored Brigade and nine Reserve Infantry Divisions.
TheTumens'goal was Xining, the capitalcity of Qinghai Province and the southern supply artery to the PLA's WesternArmy Front. On the Northern flank, two of the four remainingTumens,one armored brigade and one infantry division had to punch through along ashorter front against one Regular Mechanized Division, five Reserve InfantryDivisions and one Regular Armored Brigade. Their goal was the town of Gulang inGansu Province, the nexus of the northern supply artery.
If the powerful Southern thrust could link up with theNorthern attack, they would isolate 350,000 PLA troops (20% of their currentarmy) in a pocket they couldn't fight their way out of. If they failed to link,the Khanate was done for. Unless they could cut off that Gansu/Qinghai Salient,the Khanate would be left with an untenable border and not nearly enough troopsleft to hold it.
The majority of my concern for that Wagnerian Cauldron wastaken away from me. When I unloaded the latest info on Riki, Fathom and Javierathey all smiled, nodded and informed me that I was taking the next 24 hoursoff. I didn't want to because I really didn't know what to do with my life, atthe moment.
Then they informed me that I was going to spend the morningwith Aya and her Fatal Squirts. That, I could do. I called Aya to make surethis was something she wanted to do. I had the feeling she might not have beenconsulted. She had been 'told' that I was coming by to see her tomorrow morningat the park adjacent to the private school she attended.
We'd hang out for a few hours, catch some lunch then driveout to Doebridge for some Amazon-style training. I told her that I couldn'twait to see her. Sagely, she said that meant I must be in a bad way. I laughed,she beamed a happy 'see you soon' and I crashed out for some much needed rest.In the morning, over breakfast, we got some good news.
India's two carrier fleets had set sail. They weremarshalling near the Nicobar Island in the eastern end of the Bay of Bengal.Beyond that lay the Malacca Straits and the much disputed resources of theSouth China Sea. Her diplomats were burning the midnight oil with theircounterparts in the Vietnamese and Malaysian governments and armed forces.
In New Delhi, the Chinese and Russian Ambassadors to Indiawere both trying to woo the Worlds' largest democracy to their differing sides.Alerted to this through Booth-gan operatives, the U S and U K (through theoffices of the E U) were doing a bit of wooing of their own. Once more, it wasthe same for Nations as it was for people; India's Intelligence Service was onthe 'inside' of the information curve, thanks the JIKIT.
For me it was bed. Around nine pm Javiera Castello showed upin my room. She was kind enough to leave the lights off, letting the passivelight from the cityscape provide the illumination. Before she could say a word,she started to yawn.
"Get in," I pulled the covers half aside as Iscooted to the middle. She hesitated a second before coming over.
"I came in to see if you wanted a bite to eat, and totell you Buffy came back and she was pissed. She wanted to see you until wetold her you were asleep," Javiera told me.
"Is she still here?" I stifled my own sympatheticyawn.
"No, she stormed out," she sat down on the bedbeside me. I let my head fall down on the far pillow. "Care to tell mewhat that was about?" she added.
"Internal politics," I was losing interest in thisconversation fast.
"Cáel, if you want to talk with someone ~ semi-normaland off the record, " she trailed off. "I'm already going to spendthe rest of my life as a fugitive, or in a deep dark hole," she tried tojoke. "Keeping a few of your secret isn't going to, "
All I did was stare at her. She was an experienced andgifted criminal prosecutor and that made her a good judge of a person's soul.My soul had been taking a serious beating and she knew it. For that matter,Javiera had never seen me far from pain, my Father's murder, Charlotte's deathand now this latest unspoken malady.
"I'll lay down for a bit, if you don't mind?"
I raised the sheets halfway up once more. She kicked off herlow heels then sidled in.
"You are naked," she stiffened slightly. I knewthe source of her misconceptions. I wasn't a neatnik and I certainly didn't actlike one.
What I was, was a man who didn't think his lady friendswanted to be walking all over his dirty undies. Given a chance, I put myclothes in the hamper unless I planned to put them on ~ in say, a few hours. Ihad decided to sleep until morning, I had my jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoesalready set aside and had already showered.
Sneak out without too many complications was my plan, so Ihad tossed my used clothes into the laundry basket. That meant when Javieradidn't see my clothes scattered about, she assumed I had something on.
"You are getting arou; hard," she noted with tiredplayfulness.
"I don't mean this as an insult, but you don't want toimagine the female form that doesn't get the same reaction from me, Javiera.I'm tired and unless you initiate something, I'm going back to sleep.
"Okay." It took her a few seconds but, she put herhead down on the pillow beside me.
She was even getting the warm spot where I had beensleeping. I noisily stretched my arm out, up and around, giving her plenty oftime to roll on her side, facing me, and rest her head on my shoulder. Ithought she was worried that her hand resting on my chest would, and I slept.An hour later, Riki showed up.
Without the lights on, she initially mistook the sleepingJaviera to be a sleeping, post-sex Javiera.
"Cáel?" she whispered.
"She's asleep and totally clothed. Do you need me, orher?"
"You," she came and sat down on the side of thebed opposite Javiera.
"The Georgians and Armenians are sending separatecommissions to meet with you," she began. I must have looked really tired."You are their Prince, right? They want to make some ground rules andbring some issues to your attention. I'd like to bring in some of the UK and USexperts on the region to help out."
"Make it so," I proclaimed loftily and quietly.She got the reference.
"Aye, aye Captain," she smiled compassionately.The 'Beat Puppy' look is a serious lure for any babe with a mothering instinct.
"Come on," I yawned. "Crawl in."
"I shouldn't," she demurred.
"I'm about to fall back to sleep and I don't want to doit alone," I moped. Yes, I had a woman asleep on the other side of me, butRiki had her sight-inhibiting 'sex goggles' on.
"I'll be right back," she kissed me (on thecheek). Off she went and quickly she returned. I barely registered hersnuggling in on the other side. Sleep took us.
"The Dali Lama is currently meeting with The Great Khanand it's going out over the BBC, Aljazeera and CNN!" Lady Fathom loudlyproclaimed as she flipped on the lights while the grey-black skyline showed thefirst signs of pink. "I've proven my diplomatic brilliance yet again.Cáel, you know what this means," she began stripping. "The rest ofyou can stay or go, your choice."
So I got my four-way.
Monday, August 15th ~ 28 Days to go
My kidnappers' plan was equal parts sinister and simple. Theonly item that tipped me off that anything untoward was happening were theblank lenses worn by the little girl walking my way. Ten years old is a bitearly in life to be exploring your beatnik heritage. Only when she got closedid I pick up on her tear streaked cheeks and the white-knuckled hold she hadon her book bag.
Before then, I had been the anchor point/mom-teacherdistracting device that allowed Aya and her Squirts to become unsworn peaceofficers for the first through six graders who were at the park, pool andoutdoor athletic facilities attached to the private school. There were a few kidsactually attending summer classes, but most of the youngster hanging about weredoing so because this was a 'public' place.
That meant that only the right quality of people wereallowed in. The other security guards asked me about Yasmin. I told them shewas finished with her orientation at Havenstone (a lie, the real 'Runner'orientation took a minimum of one year) and would soon be working on atemporary project in her native Brazil. I neglected to mention that we would beengaging in nefarious activities that would very likely involve varying levelsof pain and death.
Even though they knew me, I was still searched. My ConcealCarry permit didn't cover me leaving the vehicle, so they took my boom-boom.They missed my knife in the arm sheath. I didn't care.
I managed to bring in four 'sweet' water pistols so I coulddispense summary humiliation to any mouthy punks who thought they could pick onAya and I couldn't stop them because I was an adult. I'm not much of an adult.I'd also tricked the Martial leader of the Amazon Host, so these entitledbullies seriously hadn't a clue who they were screwing with.
I could place a wet spot on a crotch (guys), or shoot themin their mouths (girls) form ten feet. Turning around only meant you got asoaked ass instead. Sadly, that brought me to the attention of two Eight gradegirls who liked to play Call of Duty (there is a video game thatdoesn'thavescantily clad babes? And people play it? Just kidding.)
Anyway, these were two girls who knew Aya by reputation (herFather was a spy), and Europa (because she was a bad-ass.) It was all harmlessfun until one asked me if I'd ever been to Romania. I knew what was coming.They showed me some video, included shoulder cam footage from my team, theRomanian Mountain Hunters and the Mycenaeans.
Yes, I was that guy. Yes, the strange girl showed up and mySpidey senses were tingling. I had four security types (2 Amazons and 2 FBI HRTmembers) in separate locations outside the school grounds. There were eightsecurity types on the ground and four NYPD patrol cars within two minutes. Ishould have been safe.
With shaking hands, she handed me her MP3 player. She wasclearly sniffling with near hysteria. The MP3 had five files with my name onthem Instructions #1~5.
"Please," the little girl pleaded softly."Please, do what they say, or they'll kill my Mommy." Aya and one ofher Squirts, seeing one of their classmates standing next to me were on theirway over.
I was about to wave her off then I took a second look at herglasses. They had spy cams on each side. I was already being watched. The restwas basic. The little girl was wired to explode. The girl's backpack had theequivalent of an omnidirectional child-size Claymore mine, kill radius 5meters, or so they claimed. Aya was within three meters already.
I was being observed. No direct communication with thekidnappers was permitted. Either I complied with each and every step laid outon the MP3 player, or the child and mother detonated. It got better; theywanted Aya and me, not just me. Worse, it was all very solid spycraft. I wouldonly communicate a given message to my guardians while a second phone was alsoon, so they could listen in to what I said.
The mom and her minivan were waiting for me at the school Ushaped drop off station. I waved good-bye to the guards. I contacted mysecurity to let them know I was on the move. They were concerned. I wasinsistent and they followed along. At the appropriate moment, an auto accidentseparated my team and Mini-van Mom sped away.
At stage #5 of the instructions, Aya and I stripped nakedwith remarkable aplomb. It wasn't that we weren't afraid what would happen tothe mother and child (and a tad worried about ourselves), but we had oneanother and that was what mattered most. We were given fresh cloths and a timetable to get ready to depart.
At the parking garage exchange point, I was happy to seethat while they were binding up me and Aya (hands behind our backs, ankles andgags), they were also binding up the mother and child, plus removing anddisarming the explosives. We'd never know if they were fakes, or not. Theystuffed us in the trunk of a new sedan.
That vehicle only traveled a few more blocks before we tooka sharp incline then came to an abrupt halt. The sedan's engine cut off and adifferent sounding engine, a diesel, started up. After that, I was in the Landof the Lost. I'd lost all bearings. The thing was, I already knew theidentities of three of the four kidnappers, I'm an ass man and no two asses arethe same.
None of that was helpful at the moment. We were taken out ofthe trunk at our final destination. The kidnappers' sedan was in the back of alarge panel truck. That had shaken off all immediate chances of being trackedby traffic cams. There were four Seven Pillars Commandoes present who cut ourfeet free and removed our gags before taking us out of the truck. Those fourtook us down the ramp, exposing us to our new setting; an aircraft hangar withclose to thirty 7P's.
There was only one of the old kidnapping crew in evidence,Felix Melena unmasked. I looked at him, he looked at me, snorted, grinned thenshrugged. "It pays to be on the winning side," he joked.
"Turning traitor will only make you their dog insteadof Havenstone's," I countered calmly. I was raging, Goddess, I was dyingfor a chance to be in a situation where unleashing my rage would do some good.This wasn't it.
"Yeah, but I'll be a dog who can fuck bitches, not somelap pet like you, Nyilas," Felix snorted. To an outsider and a person whoonly looked at the superficial Melena, his actions and attitude were plausible,even expected.
To an insider like me, this was an impossibility. There wasno way Felix could have gathered the access to pull this off. A Havenstoneinsider would never trust Felix as a pawn. And Felix wouldn't betray me for themost important of all reasons (to Felix). How could he reverse his martialdefeat at my hands if I wasn't around anymore?
He was a bastard and a huge prick, but he was aself-confident machismo kind of man too. I shouldn't have been surprised thatKatrina would risk her own niece in whatever ploy she was working on. I stilldidn't know if she, or Alal, was the smartest, most convoluted thinker I hadever known. Felix's other three assistants weren't around because they wereAmazons and that would have looked fishy.
In the crowd of Han, five people stood out. Of leastimportance was the grizzled looking Chinese fireplug with grey-white,short-cropped hair and a scar running through his right eye. It was milky andblind. I had little doubt he thought Spetsnaz training was for pussies too. Heled the twenty-four other Seven Pillar Commandos. I recognized the gear.
I surveyed the next four ~ I'd get to the girl last. Twowere a bald, senior-junior member team of Gong tau necromancers. The youngerguy looks like he was happy to be past the 'twisting the heads off heads ofkittens' phase of his training and into the true, 'I get to help humanssuffer and die' main program.
The older guy had far more extensive tattooing: much morethan the junior member and more than the guy Saku had killed for me at SummerCamp. He looked at Aya and I as if we were nine year old virgins on a pedophileauction block. He was unhealthily happy to see us.
The last duo were fraternal twins. Without a doubt, HanChinese. The woman was tall for a female of the type and as tall as herbrother, 5 foot ten, and slight-muscular builds (somewhere in the 140lb.range). They had tight black bodysuits on, hip-holstered pistols and twin Jianswords on their backs. Both had their long black hair braided down to theirbelt loops.
Everyone looked down on Aya, both physically and socially. Iearned a greater level of hostility from the commandoes ~ I'd turned some oftheir buddies into briquettes. I was a curious skin rash to the warlocks; anunexpected infection they meant to scrape off the flesh of their Pure Hanworld. The twins were intense and not my biggest fans.
Felix stepped up to the leader, who clearly looked as thoughhe was dealing with a form of life even lower than me. I was loyal to my side,no matter how misguided. Felix was a traitor. He handed four objects to theguy: my Amazon honor blade, a clear baggie with one brownie and five fortunecookies, and two tiny objects, memory cards.
"What is this?" the male asked. His English was'English', not 'American'.
"The chips from their phones and this is his 'Amazon'token. I believe it has some value to him," Felix explained. "Thetreats ~ he values them for no reason I know of, yet he is never without some."
"I did not ask for these, Traitor," the boy-twinsneered. Then he tried to punish Felix by stabbing him in the chest with atwo-fingered strike. He was fast. Felix was an eye-blink faster and parried theblow. Felix took two steps back before setting his fighting stance. Myco-worker was grinning evilly.
"If that's the best you got Chang, Chung, 'whicheverfrying pan noise you are'," Felix laughingly mocked him, "you hadbetter keep Cáel’s hands and feet bound, or he's going to escape and be comingback for me by day's end."
That bravado was a risky play on his part.
It would help the 7P's believe Felix was a cavalier savageoverlaid with a thin veneer of civilization. Obsequious traitors would be thenorm, thus easily to consider suspicious. Felix was playing the role of arevenge-oriented opportunist. He was making it easy to want to kill him, whichno sane double-agent would do.
To prove my point, six commandoes pointed their QCW-05Chinese Suppressed Submachine Gun his way.
"You are a poor judge of my tolerance, Rat," theman glared, "and remarkably incapable of accepting your minisculeworth."
"I know me and my partner delivered the man andKatrina's niece when you couldn't get close, Chuckie," Felix taunted him."Was that the Dali Lama and the Great Khan chatting away this morning?With Cáel’s fiancéesitting in the background?" he continued happily.
"Go," the man dismissed him. They waited untilFelix mounted up on a motorcycle I hadn't seen before and departed beforeanother word was spoken.
"His time will come,Brother," the girl spoke up (girl as in a woman in her late 20's)."You will feed him each word, each insult." He looked her way. Therewas some true affection there. It wasn't incestuous, just familial respect andlove. "Do you know what I am saying," she looked my way.
I kept looking at her because that was natural. They had mylife in their hands, so observing the two people clearly in charge was logical.I didn't even indicate that I knew she was asking a question.
"Kill the girl. She is nolonger of any use to us," she said next.
This wasn't even a stress on my acting ability. Aya hadmultiple uses, so verbally threatening her as a lure was idiotic in theextreme. No one was moving to follow those orders, so I maintained my'confused' face.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
No Longer An Enemy.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
"My Sister wished to know if you speak Mandarin,"the brother translated for me.
"Hi, I'm Cáel," I greeted him. "Who are youguys?" He looked to one of the two goons holding on to me. I received apainful kidney punch. I discovered a whole new super-power. It hurt for abouttwo seconds then nothing.
"I asked you a question," he repeated.
"No, I don't speak Mandarin," I lied so well itcame across as a dour confession.
"Yet you know the secretive language of the Earth &Sky," he stated.
"Yes, I do. I have a thing for dead languages. Maybe ina few more years, I'll pick up your Mother Tongue as well," I bantered.
No punishment was immediately meted out, so I suspected noone close to me, besides him, spoke much if any English. Jian Bob (my new namefor him) didn't relay my insult. I wasn't worth it. He went straight for thereason for our get-together.
"You are going to die, Mr. Nyilas. That is agiven," J B began.
"We both know you have done enough damage to our causeto be worthy of elimination a hundred times over. I'm going to show you respectby not lying to you about your possible fate. What you can do is save youryoung companion. We understand you two are close," he appealed in a verypolite manner. Aya snickered.
"Cáel, these people are mentally challenged," shegiggled to me, "or hideously misinformed."
"I know, I know," I smiled down at Aya."Still, they have gone through a great deal of effort to insult ourintellect today, so let's humor them a little longer." Jian Bob issuedseveral casual orders.
In short order, a third man had hold of me by the jaw withone hand while trying to hold my eyelids open with the other. One guard heldher by the shoulders. A second held her right hand, extending her ring finger.A third man held a knife to her top knuckle. A forth stood close with a smallblowtorch.
"She may be a small person, Mr. Nyilas, but she canstill die by the Death of a Thousand cuts," he explained.
"I love you, Aya," I told her softly.
"I love you too, Fehérmén," shesucceeding in keeping most of the fear from her voice.
Neither one of us could stop this. Aya certainly didn'texpect me to compromise the Host for her benefit. She was as much an Amazon asthe first Epona.
"First, I wish to know what alerted you to the attackat the Summer Camp," Bob began the interrogation.
"We know you were responsible. We want to know whathappened." I looked into his eyes and waited patiently. He nodded to theguard, who shoved my face toward Aya's extended finger until I was less than afoot away.
"Do it." The Order camein Mandarin.
The guard cut the top part of the digit off, one knuckle. Ilooked at the flesh and bone being cut away. In a clinical manner, I noted howsharp the blade was. I saw the blood shoot forth and heard Aya's little voicecry out in pain. I was pulled back and pointed at Jian Bob again.
"Do I need to repeat the question for you?" hesaid.
"No, I caught it the first time," I grimaced."It tells me that you haven't the slightest idea who you are fuckingwith." Bob made a slight hand gesture and the blowtorch cauterized Aya'sstump. Her little lungs belted out a terrible screech that wound down as herfeet gave out and she hung limply in the guard's grip.
"Revive her." The blowtorchguy, clearly not his first day on the job, snapped some smelling salts underher noise. Aya revived, sobbing and in a great deal of pain.
"Cáel," she whimpered. "I have found mystillness. I'll be okay now." Her sobs subsided.
"Shall we try this again?" J B remained coollypolite, almost urbane.
"Nah," I joked, "we are both pretty good overhere."
"Again." The Mandarinorder came. Off went another digit of her ring finger. This time her scream wasmuch more exuberant and forceful. We all know it hurt like Hell, but the worldhad turned.
"He's going to kill all ofyou," Aya snickered while she sobbed. "You are all going todie."
"Mu, what is the little girlsaying?" she asked Jian Bob, real name Mu.
"She is stating her beliefthat Cáel will somehow kill us all," he and his sister shared the joke.
"Let us see what hertune is when they start in on her left hand," the woman smiled at hersibling.
That implied they'd cut off her right thumb and fingers,digit by digit, until one, or both of us cracked. The man nodded and Aya's nubwas burned again. Her scream was more of a cleansing shout.
"Cáel, do you think I will have a nice horse to ridewhen I join Epona's herds, or will I get a pony?" Aya whimpered.
"Not a clue," I began before Mu had theface-hugging guard apply a finger strike to my solar plexus. Alal's gift hadallowed me to partially organize my brain functions. Coping with pain was awhole lot easier now, but I had to be careful to monitor it because pain wasNature's way of letting you know that there was something wrong with your body.
"What color would you like me to pick up and havewaiting for you," punch, "when you finally take yourself to thecliffs?"
"Again."
"This is accomplishingnothing," the senior bald Mo Fo grumbled. "He clearly cares nothingfor the child and has been trained in counter-interrogation techniques."
"There is nothing to indicatethat," Mu bristled.
"Xiàsh, burn the tip of hisleft forefinger," senior necromancer commanded. The guy holding my facecoordinated with the men holding my arms to free me of my bonds and wrestle myleft arm forward. I didn't bother resisting.
It didn't take the commandoes long to figure I had stoppedcaring. On came the flame and the pain. Oh, I screamed. The pain was real. Whathad changed was my ability to shuffle it off to an isolated memory file to betackled later. The bald creep stepped into my field of vision. His eyes werewindows to the abyss. My "spirit" sight opened my eyes to the trulyinhuman sections of his mind and soul.
"See, normal techniques willnot be affective. We will do it, " and they realized the enormity of theirmistake by assuming I was paralyzed by the pain. I broke free of the guy on myleft and began twisting around the guy on my right. I wasn't getting away, Iwas going for his QCW O5. I knew their favorite martial arts styles and theirweaponry now.
The guy I was rolling behind realized what I was doing(going for his gun), but mistook my intentions. I wasn't trying to get away, orsteal the gun (still strapped to his body). That cockhead even helped me out bylurching ground-ward. I swung the gun up, hit the selector and fired two quickbursts.
The first three rounds hit Mr. Blowtorch in his right thigh,shredding it. The second burst caught Mr. Knife guy in the crotch, a triple21mm castration. Had Blowtorch Guy not been busy trying to keep the strands ofhis right hip connected to his right leg, he could have stopped the bloodfountaining from his buddies shattered groin. That was the end of my joy.
I was born to the ground and the guy whose gun I'd borrowedpulled away. I hit the concrete surface hard. That was only the beginning of myissues. Radiating from the floor was cold beyond cold. I had the sensation offalling into the heart of a cold, dead star. How I even knew what the felt likewas an impossibility.
"He feels very cold,"protested one of the two guards, in Mandarin; pulling me back to my feetgroused.
"If your incompetence has ledto his terminal condition," the male twin threatened. I felt the approach ofthe female twin, her reaching for me. A new intense pain seared me to the coresof my bones. Before she yanked my hair up, my body reignited.
I found myself stared into her pitiless eyes that regardedme with the casual callousness of a veterinarian preparing to put down somerabid stray dog. She ran three fingers over my cheek.
"What are you babblingabout?" she snapped at the two commandoes. "If anything, he isfeverish."
"Zhen, have him sedated,"Chief Necromancer demanded. "Mu, now we will do this my way." Oncemore I was bound. Someone stabbed a needle into my right triceps. That was amere discomfort. If I had any consolation, it was hearing Mu ordering theexecution of the two men I'd shot.
They didn't have the time and facilities to tend to their immediateemergency needs and taking them to a trauma center wasn't going to happen.Those two went into body bags. I had to assume they would be joining us on theplane, though they'd be in the cargo compartment.
"What are you smilingat?" I heard Zhen snapping before my world collapsed down to a pinhole oflight.
"Lady, I don't know what you said," Aya declaredhappily. "You are probably angry that Cáel has already killed two of youand we haven't even got off the ground yet." I heard a sound I couldn't makeout followed by another and finally a third. That resulted in an Aya-squeak.Ah, she'd tried to hit Aya and Aya had dodged the first two blows. Good girl.
"Cáel isn't going to like you doing that," Ayachirped.
"Aya's a winner," I mumbled. I wasn't in controlof my senses when they dragged me onto a waiting jet. I wasn't worried. WithAya at my side, I was invincible.
Dreaming
I looked at her face, so youthful, beautiful in her ownway, yet far from innocent. She bore a terrible weight. The armor she waswearing, that of a heavy horseman of the steppe, was a leather coat, chainlinks over her vulnerable regions (throat, underarms and skirt), with the restbeing covered by darkened bronze plates.
Her iron helmet was open-faced with mobile platescovering her cheeks as well as the sides and the back of her neck; it bore awhite horse-hair plume, it was the only feature of her panoply that would drawany special attention her way. She carried no shield. Instead, she wielded apowerful horn & sinew composite recurve bow. She used her knees to rise upon her mount and fire over the mare's head.
Similarly attired women rode close to either side of thisyoung woman. Both were older; one in her early forties and the other ~ latethirties. The one to the left bore a lance, not in the couched fashion mostpeople today are familiar with, but used in a double-handed over-head fightingstyle.
The woman to the right fought with a strange blade. Itwasn't saber ~ an ancestor of that blade perhaps. It was about a meter long, nohand guard, single-edged except for the top 4 cm on the back side which wasequally sharp. Her left hand remained free. I think I saw her purpose. If theyoung woman got into difficulty, her guardian on the right could pull her horseaway and lead the woman to safety.
Behind and beside those three rode perhaps three hundredof their sisters. Those in the center were as heavily armored as those three.On each flank were the lighter, faster bow-women, on smaller steeds. The womenin the center rode larger mounts that were good for carrying weight and pushinghome a charge, while the flanking steppe ponies were virtually tireless.
In the center, identified only by her long golden-manehelm, was the Golden Mare ~ War Leader of the Host. The Amazons didn't flypennants or carry banners. They judged the course of battle by that woman'shead movements (the mane was quite long) and the shrill horn blasts unique tothe Amazons.
Let the barbarians have the all too common deep boominghorns calls and their totems raised high for the world to see. Let the Romanskeep their trumpets and Legion standards. Amazons had been putting those foolsin their graves from time immemorial. Right now, those horns had summoned theHost to a trot.
The Hun, Attila, had tasked the Sarmatian Chieftain,under whose banner they rode, to deal with another crisis, the third this shortday. Once more, they directed their horses over Catalaunian Fields. TheOstrogoth had gotten themselves into a world of trouble, those filthy, stinkingGermans (why was I even thinking that way?)
First the Amazons had ridden forth on Attila's right,reinforcing the allied Germanic tribes on the Right Wing in their attempt toforce a wedge between Aetius' Romans and King Sangiban's Alans. They'd shownthe fools the way, but the supporting Gepids cavalry was too timid and by thetime they began to approach, the Golden Mare had been forced to sound 'retire'.
The Roman auxiliary cavalry, though of poor quality, hadplugged the gap. The Host were too few and too valuable (in their estimation)to die holding a position that their 'allies' might not rescue them from. Next,they had been directed to attack the center of the Alan cavalry line in supportof the Huns.
Despite the cowardice of their king, the Alans were hardyfighters and too accustomed to the style of steppe warfare that the Hostpracticed to be lured away from their position. Arrows were exchanged andbrief, brutal skirmishes developed, but no advantage was gained. With theirmounts exhausted, the Golden Mare had ordered the Host to retired to their campto water their horses and refill their quivers.
That bit of common sense and tactical wisdom placed themin their present crisis. Their Ostrogoth allies had been beating themselvesagainst their Visigoth cousins all afternoon, charging up the same cursed slopethat any sane commander would have found a way to flank. No, the Germans hadfailed seven times using the same plan, so they tried an eighth.
Miraculously, they had gained a toehold on the ridgelineand killed the Visigothic King. Like a mob of mindless farmers, the Ostrogothsstopped to celebrate their 'victory' and taunt the Visigoths with the mutilatedbody of their fallen leader. The Visigoths had been properly incensed andcounter-attacked. That's what Princes were for, to avenge their fallen Sires.
As the Host exited the Hunnic laager, they'd seen thecalamity unfold. The wavering Visigoth infantry had stiffened their line.Believing the Ostrogoths would press forward, the Horse-tail banner of Attilahimself broke away from the central Hunnic body, pivoted to his left andthundered into the Visigoth's exposed flank.
In the din of battle, it may have looked to the GreatWarlord that he had a vanishing opportunity for victory. From the valley below,it was much clearer to the Amazons that the moment to break the Visigothicinfantry had passed. The Huns were too tired; their mounts frothing from along, hot afternoon of battle. Without a swift follow-through, the attack wasdoomed.
At that point, headlong flight for the Amazons wasn'tpossible. Their long term survival hung on the Hunnic King keeping his Germanic'allies' in line. They were still somewhere in eastern Roman Gaul, with theRhine to ford and a land thick with perpetually vicious, blood-thirsty,crotch-scratching, flea-bitten Germanic barbarians to cross before they saw thegreen rolling hills of home again.
No, the Golden Mare, and that young lady knew they had todo something to stem the tide of this disaster for another hour, then darknesswould force the combatants to separate so they could try their hand at battlethe next day. As the Golden Mare rode to the Sarmatian Chieftain, a rider camethrough the dust from Attila. The Visigothic cavalry had returned with avengeance and the Ostrogoths were folding up.
The Sarmatians (with their attached Amazons) were to'somehow' repair the situation. As the Chieftain, the Golden Mare and threeSarmatian tribal leaders hastily discussed the actions. They saw the HunnicRight, under hard pressure from the Roman attack, beginning to disintegrate. Ofimmediate concern was the rift opening up between the retreating Hunnic Gepidsand the Hunnic horsemen holding the center.
King Sangiban had finally discovered his manhood. TheAlans attacked through that gap in the Hunnic lines and a rout was in theoffing. The Sarmatian Leader decided he had to answer Attila's call. The GoldenMare offered to take her Amazons and whichever tribal leader volunteered firstto ride with her against the Alans.
She drew her sword and held it aloft then motioned theSarmatians to look at her shadow.
"We will hold them off until the length of ourswords double (the shadow). Then we are all on our own," she offered.There was no further discussion necessary. There was nothing else to say. TheHost and their allies had the fresher horses and full quivers.
The Alans had numbers but no heavy horse present, yet.The Host had answered Attila's call to war and now, nearly a year away fromtheir homes in the forested steppe lands of modern-day Bukovina. At that momentthey were wondering how few of them would ever see their horse herds roamingfree this side of life.
That was where my vision came in ~ that woman was'Ishara', the last of my major bloodline of the first Ishara and this was thelast hour of her life. The other two women were the only other two members ofthat vanishing bloodline. One was her aunt and the other a cousin. Despite thedire peril to their lineage, they joined their sisters in battle.
Even though they were outnumber 2 to 1, the Amazons sweptaside the first burst of Alans, scattering their bands and hunting the slowestof them down. Rushing alone to fill the gaping hole in the main battle lineswas to abandon all tactical sense. Eighty Amazon heavy horse and perhaps twentymore Sarmatians ~ they were integrated now ~ alone simply weren't enough.
For the roughly 300 lightly armored horse-archers, itwould be a pointless suicide and that wasnotthe Amazon way.Instead, they scattered the initial Alan rush then gently trotted back down theslope. Of course, the Alans regrouped and followed. It was the battle pulse ofsteppe skirmishing.
By simply existing, they turned the rushing wave of thatfirst Alan charge into a slowly strengthening tide. The Alans' mounts were tiredand in need of water. Their quivers were nearly empty and some were seen at thetop of the slope looting the quivers of the fallen. Whenever they could, theAmazons killed those clever souls.
Killing an archer closer to you who only had two arrowsleft wasn't as economical as killing the one who was both dismounted, thus aneasier shot, and about to have fifteen bolts to use against you. Without theconstant harassment, the Gepids were able to keep their retreat orderly. Inturn, the other Germanics farther to the right kept their mobs relativelyintact as well.
Their success earned them the inevitable enemy reaction.From his vantage point, the Roman Aetius saw the vulnerable and unsupportedposition the Amazons held. If he could push past the Amazon screen, he couldstill achieve a route instead of accepting a mere victory for his side. Thesolution was a force of over two hundred Roman Heavy Horse, many of themSarmatians in Roman service. The troops may have been Sarmatians, but theircommander wasn't.
Pro forma, when the larger Roman force advanceddownslope, the Amazons obliged them by slowly zigzagging down slope away fromthem. To a warrior born to the steppe, the Amazons weren't running away, theywere simply increasing the numbers of arrows they could fire before the finalcontest of arms began.
The Roman commander sounded the 'full advance' andobediently, his men rolled forward. The Golden Mare looked to the last Isharanand smiled. Surely the Seven Martial Goddesses (one of which was Ishara) hadgiven them a great gift, a stupid enemy. The Amazon light cavalry scattered tothe flanks. The heavies bunched up tightly and went to a trot while stillmoving away.
By that time, they were on the flat, somewhat muddyfloodplain and the Romans kept coming, right along the stretch of ground theAmazons had been churning into mud with their own mounts. Belatedly, the Alanhorse-archers realized the catastrophe the Romans were riding into but theyhadn't the discipline to form up fast enough to do much good.
When the Romans had cut the distance between them andtheir targets in half, their commander realized that the Amazon heavies hadbows and his men didn't. At that point, had he finally realized he was introuble, there wasn't much he could do to save most of his men. He ordered thecharge, full gallop. When the distance close to around twenty yards, the Amazonheavies broke into thirds.
Two groups kept retreating straight away, toward theHunnic camp. The third broke off to the left at a 45% angle from the other two.The Romans kept their discipline. The commander was able to dispatch 70 of hismen to chase down the third group. If this secondary Roman group noticed thatwhen they left the already well-trodden muddy ground they picked up theirspeed, there wasn't much they could have done about that as well.
As the distance closed down to those last ten yards, thefirst group turned rapidly, formed into a tight V-shaped formation andcounter-charged into the main mass of Romans. They didn't have much time to buildup momentum. They didn't care. In fact they wanted to keep their tight wedge.130 tired Romans steeds collided with roughly 30 Amazons, my ancestor included.
The Roman Commander found that his men hadn't impactedAmazons hard enough to shatter them. His men surrounded their enemy quickly,but their preponderance of men profited them little. It was of great use to theAmazon and Sarmatians horse-archers now swarming in from all direction.
The Roman charge had ground to a halt and they madeexcellent targets with little fear of hitting the Amazon trapped in the middle.The second Roman group had something similar thing happen. The group of 35 theywere chasing turned to face them. This group, though, formed up in a line,clearly intending to absorb the attention of as many of the Roman attackers aspossible.
Charge met counter-charge. The fighting become confusedwith both sides losing some of their cohesion. The Romans were going to winthis uneven struggle, given enough time. Less than two minutes after the firstclash of arms, the 'missing third' of the Amazon/Sarmatian heavy cavalryslammed unimpeded into the second Roman group's rear, doing what Heavy Cavalrydid best, running over things.
The second Roman group shattered on impact. Those smallgroups that recoiled from that initial shock began running upslope mistakenlythinking they were being allowed to escape. When they saw the enemies formingup and heading the other way, to the main body of Romans, they had cause tohope. Only when the Amazon horse-archers closed in on those survivors did theyrealized how wrong they were.
One Armored Roman was more than a match for any one, ortwo horse-archers, but Five? Due to the actions of a double handful of braveAlans, a few Romans managed to stagger back to the top of the slope that somany had advanced from less than 30 minutes earlier. For the main Roman body,there were no happy endings. The Roman Commander wasn't some Germanic hero. Hewas an officer and tactician.
He realized that the horse-archers were whittling away onhis men on the outside faster than his men on the inside were crushing thegroup he'd 'trapped'. From his point of view, he'd accomplished his mission,driving the 'Hunnish forces' off the slope. He was wrong to believe that. Hehadn't 'driven off' anyone.
Even as the Roman call to 'Rally' sounded, the victors ofthe 'secondary' fight rolled into his men. Within thirty seconds, the Romanrank and file realized they'd lost this particular fight and began to break offin the only direction left open to them, moving diagonally between theretreating Hunnic and Ostrogothic forces and the Hunnic laager.
Those roughly 50 men had to run a gauntlet of 25,000enemies to make their exit from battlefield's farthest point. The Amazonsdidn't keep track of them. They reformed their ranks, tended their wounded andgathered their dead. After dark, they would return to those piles to give theirsisters a proper burial. Currently they had to return upslope to continuescreening their allies from the Alans as the Germans fell back.
The Golden Mare held up her sword to the Dying Light andjudged her women had performed their duties long enough. The shrill hornsunique to the Amazons sounded 'retire'. My ancestor, proud that she'd foughtwell in her first battle with all three of the housemates surviving, turned totell her aunt something. The arrow from an Alan bow pierced her chainmail coifand slashed through her throat.
She spit out a gout of blood. Her aunt grabbed her niece'sreins while calling out to her other kinswoman. They hurried her to the rearuntil she was sheltered by the mass of horsewomen. A warrior, more skilled inthe healing arts than most, rushed to her side. My ancestor was stillconscious, though she could not speak. The look on the new woman's face said itall.
As her mind slipped into darkness, she felt herself falling.Was she falling out of the arms of her guardians, off the back of her favoritemare, down to the trampled muddy earth? Or was she falling into the arms of herancestors, the last of her line? As she passed from this world into the next,she heard the whispering of her Goddess ~ 'this is not over and you have notdied in vain'.
Three Goddesses Bad
The medically induced fog was being dissipated by somethingfoul smelling being waved in front of my nose. My muscles ached from mesleeping in an uncomfortable position for far too much time.
"Ah, I croaked. My throat was parched. "Whatthe,"
"He is waking up."
"You three leave us," oneof the necromancers spoke. "You, go get cleaning supplies and return in 30minutes. You, stay by the door."
I opened my dry eyes to take in the scene.
I remained a certifiable threat. Out of the corner of myeyes (I couldn't move my head), two commandos were leaving out one door alongwith some guy in a pseudo-uniform who first bowed, then left with them. One guyin another pseudo-uniform bowed and was heading out the other door. The lastman, the one told to stay, was the commando remaining on guard by the door thefirst three exited.
As for me, I was stripped naked, spread-eagle on an onyxtable. It was man-shaped with its greatest dimension being close to 3 meters.I've fucked women on a variety of stone objects. (Volcanic rock has its owntextures.) My ankles and wrists were held in place by metal shackles. My head,quite literally, was in a vice. The only restraints I could see were on myankles.
No Torquemada chains for these guys. They'd shelled out forthe very best, some sort of a magnetic job with a handy dandy green light thatinformed me I was screwed.
"Where is Aya?" I croaked.
(Some funky Sino-style language I didn't know I knew)"Beginning marking his head."
The junior Gong tau priest began to draw something on myforehead. I flexed, accomplishing nothing.
"Where is Aya!" I screamed. The senior Necromancerwho had done all the talking until now, looked to the remaining commando.
"What is the stinky barbariansaying?" he asked the guard, in Mandarin.
"He is inquiring the locationof the child he was captured with," the man translated. Shit-head Honchodidn't speak English, didn't know I spoke Mandarin (or his sorcerous tongue),so believed there to be a language barrier which might be a problem if theyinterrogated me.
The twins were nowhere in sight and only the brother hadspoken English before. My 'where' was a source of curiosity to me. I felt aslight, continuous tremor coming through the table. The space was slightlycurved inward toward the top. The room was shrouded in black silk hangings.Then the whole room shuddered. We were still on an airborne aircraft.
Well, fiddle sticks, I was still a bit dopey. Pamela wasn'tlikely to be busting in to save me anytime soon. I was on my own. How long hadI been out anyway? No chronometers were visible.
"Ha," the scumbaglaughed. In Mandarin, he added; "Tell him the child, his Aya, will betrained in the arts of a concubine, serving the lusts of my temple for manyyears."
Cock-cheese guard translated. I grew introspective.Apparently this lack of response irritated the current lead bad-guy.
"Since he has not bothered totake her virginity, I will," the necromancer grinned like an eel, if eelscould grin, "once you are my slave." The guard translated. He gotcreative too.
"Once the Honorable Tsu (Chief Sleaze-Douche's name)has taken her flower, myself and another will take her other holes," theguard added. An angry retort was pointless and would only make feel thempowerful. Pleading was even more useless.
"With the 'itty bitty' size of your erect cocks, I'mnot worried about her or any of her 'blossoms' being un-blossomed," Irelaxed. Aya was alive and not 'deflowered'. They really should have killedher. Now there were two Amazons on the plane. They didn't understand thatAmazons trained to fight all their battles outnumbered. Idiots.
I had Aya and she had me. These bastards were doomed.Exactly how they were 'doomed' I hadn't figured out yet. The guard said nothingfor several seconds.
"What did he say?" Tsuasked. The guard told him. Tsu didn't like that. He held out his horrificlooking fang-like blade for me to see then dragged the tip along my erection.
"Tell him if my Scepter ofManhood is not enough, I will animate his and use it on her instead."
My, that was rude. Any man who refers to his pecker as a'Scepter of Manhood' had serious a serious size-phobia going on.
My phallus was unimpressed, remaining tall, full, loud andproud. The commando translated while attempting to remain utterly emotionless.
"Oh, let me think, how long is this ritual going totake?" I inquired. Translated.
"Tell him it will last therest of his life," Tsu sneered. Translated.
"Cool," I chuckled. "Do you have aphone?" The commando mulled that over.
"Who could you possibly call, Dog?" he glared.
"No," snorted. "You've got me allwrong."
"I want you to call your mother and let her know youwon't make it home, ever again. I'm going to end all your lives," Ipromised.
That finally earned me a sliver of emotion from the guy,anger.
"He brags the he will killus," the guard told his master.
That wasn't what I said! I said I'd 'end' them. Like mostgreat potentates, I had others do my killing for me.
"Better men have tried,"Tsu scoffed. "They have all fallen before our Mandate in the end. Even indeath, this one will serve us."
Wow, flashback to the Witch-King of Angmar.
'All the killers I have in mind are women, you misogynistfreak'.
The goo on my forehead began to get irritating, alternatingrapidly between hot and cold. Tsu began doing the same thing on my thighs.
His mixture of designs and Chinese characters was only partiallyvisible to me. His buddy was working down my cheeks then onto my neck. They metat the bottom of my ribcage. Half were whole 'unspeakable' runes andblasphemous prayers to 'entities' whose names were the fantasy handles of every14-year old geek overdosed on sugar and caffeine, deluding himself intothinking that hacking Mario Cart made him the next Cyber-Enigma.
The others; they were mapping me out like a side of beef. Myskin felt electric. The duo began chanting. The nameless guy on top pressed thetip of his blade against my widow's peak (as much as I had one). Tsu pressedhis point against my inner thigh. Beyond the painful scalping I was about toendure, he was going to start bleeding me out. This definitely wasn't torture.
They had promised to cut my soul out of my body and rip allof my secrets from my dead flesh. A piece of etiquette unknown to me until thatmoment reared its ugly head.
'Cáel,' Dot Ishara whispered. 'Swallow your tongue.' Myfirst thought was 'Ishara shouldn't be expending so much of her energy tryingto push herself through the Weave' then it occurred to me these dumbasses weredoing all the heavily lifting for her.
They were parting the Veil and severing the Weave with theirnecromantic incantations and symbolism. I swallowed my damn tongue, or I trulytried to. I was choking alright. Just in time, Tsu began applying the cuttingedge to my inner thigh. I felt that horrible chill that had every hair on mybody standing tall.
A divine warning in Sumerian telling the Gong tau priest tostop what he issued forth from my mouth sans any air to let it be heard. Twosmall lines: 'This one is inviolate. Stop right now'.
No reaction from the necromancers. My lips formed a secondwarning, 'You have been called forth and warned. Cease at once.' I thinkole Tsu began sensing something wasn't right, so whomever was moving my lipsrattled off the third and final warning as quick as she could.
'One sliver of flesh, one drop of blood, one tear ofsorrow and I will have my revenge'. It was something beyond myunintelligible gaks that alerted Tsu he was about to be boned. His assistantwasn't all that much in tune with the mojo. His blade sunk into my foreheadmaybe a centimeter.
"Stop!Tsuscreamed at the man. Too late. I felt a drop of blood ooze forth from thewound. It was 'so on!'
That point of etiquette? When a spirit owns, or possessessomeone and it comes across a power, or a minion of a power ~ like Gong taupractitioners who work with demons ~ the possessing entity was required to givefair warning.
It wasn'tSarrat Irkalli,SumerianGoddess of the Netherworld's fault that I'd swallowed my tongue (I'd doneit on Ishara's orders and was hers to command) so that my word of caution wererendered soundless.
She'd met all that was required before an epic ass-whoopingwas going to be handed down, you know, the 'Old Testament, Wrath of God' kindof shit. Remember how I felt that the Gong tau adherents were doing somethingwrong? I was right. They were. This wasn't a 'slap on the wrist', or even '15years in an Angolan prison where your nickname wasSweet Meat' asthe necessary atonement either.
This whole room howled out its violation of the Weave. Itwas unnatural in a supernatural kind of way, if that made sense? Magicwasbadfor a reason. Even though magic existed, the Universestill operated on Scientific Principles; things like conservation of mass andthermodynamics. Creating, or removing mass in Reality bashed the stability ofthe Universe over its head.
The same went for energy. If you threw lighting you werepulling electrons through the Weave, weakening it. Whatever they did in ourreality, they accomplished by stealing from the legends and echoes of the pastand all the potentials from the future. That was why Gods could appear sotough, they were devouring random possible futures.
Stealing souls was much, much worse; it stole parts of thepresent (the living souls) and pushed them to the other side of the Weave,where they didn't belong yet. Those stolen souls allowed entities on the wrongside of the Weave to tap into that 'real' power in our world without immediaterepercussions (the bad karma).
It was short term power that put the long-term survival ofthe Weave in danger. The energy of that soul was supposed to power the Weave,but it wasn't doing that anymore. Tsu was about to be way overdrawn with somenasty-ass fuckers whose runes he'd scrawled on my flesh. Whoops. He'd promisedthem something that was someone else's property. In this instance, it was theCáel soul shard triplet of the Alal-Baraqu-Cáel trio.
It belonged to Sarrat Irkalli and I had the feeling eversince she, Dot Ishara and SzélAnya had leapt inside my back in the warehouse,they'd been waiting to come out and play. I was Dot's House Head. I had made apledge in SzélAnya's name before the Amazon Council, making her a candidate torejoin the Host's Goddess and to use the Amazons to protect her mortaloffspring from whomever was hunting them to extinction.
'Yours Truly' being in mortal peril (yet again) was as gooda chance as any for SzélAnya to lay down the required miracle-working on theAmazons' behalf to advance her house down the road to acceptance. It wasSzélAnya, daughter of the Cosmic Dragon, who's shared parental memories hadenlightened me so I 'knew' what the heart of a dead star felt like. Through hersire, she shared his Legend. I felt so cold all over again.
In a non-Cáel encounter, Tsu had three normal safe-guards tokeep himself alive.
1) Set up wards dedicated to his demonic Allies/Masters. Hehad created them, this room, but he'd put me inside them to perform hissoul-stealing ritual. Hadn't any of these bozos heard of the Trojan Horse? Wewere talking about the freaking Amazons here. The Iliad was our primer for whywe'd had an undying hatred for all things Hellas going on for the past threethousand years.
2) He could have prayed for the Pacts (in which he pledgedhis soul to the Demon Kings) would ward him in the same way Sarrat Irkalli'sactions 5000 years ago safeguarded me. This could only be voided if he refusedto obey the three required warnings. Except Sarrat Irkalli had warned him therequired three times, and he'd missed it.
Unless the Demon Kings wanted to have an occult showdownwith around three dozen pantheons full of deities in an airplane in mid-flight,they wouldn't respond. Their idiot minion had violated the terms of hiswarranty. His were not the kind of Bosses who followed the 'spirit' of theagreement over the precise wording.
3) The Last Chance? The Goddesses had established a nexus pointpiercing the Weave locked inside my body and only a ritual wound unlock it.Don't bleed me and the damn spiritual door couldn't open. As long as he couldkeep the three goddess on their side of the Weave, he could fight them throughtheir proxy, me. His buddy, by drawing blood, had initiated the soul-stealingritual. The door was opened and the Goddesses stepped through.
Two final notes :Don't fuck with theWeave.Itwill get you. Also, all that bad karma that normallystops Divinities from interfering? Well, all that bad karma was stillaccumulating, for the side that had started the fight = the Demon Kings. Oh,when/if Tsu ever got back to his Masters ~ them beingdispleasedwouldonly be compounded by them being calledDemon Kings.
Round One
Sarrat Irkalli :Since I could actually seespirits, I saw her spring forth from my body, looking like a Harry PotterDementor on Slimfast. Seriously man, the chick needed to hit an 'All you canEat' buffet, chomping down on a heaping helping of, of something. She was allskin and bones. I'm not saying I wouldn't do her, but I have abysmally lowstandards.
SzélAnya:She went down through the floor transforming from woman into dragon,still spiritual invisible to almost all. The two other people onboard who couldsee her were otherwise occupied. Before she left, my bonds' green lights turnedred as they flipped open. The sole commando guardian was on the ball and wentfor his pistol. Whoops again. That was made of metal. A lightning bolt archedout of my chest and played Old Sparky on him for about thirty seconds. Ugh,burnt pork.
Dot Ishara :She decided to sit this round out.The other two seemed to have my salvation well in hand.
Round Two
Sarrat Irkalli :I'll tell Alal he can go plughis cock into one of those turbines inside Hoover Dam if he ever asks me tohelp him get revenge on this Monster. I am never going to piss this Bitch off(and Thank You Dot Ishara for making it so those two couldn't read my mindeither). Tsu was, immediately exsanguinated which is an unimaginative way ofsaying she forced every bit of blood in his body out of every orifice and pore.
I think he was alive for several seconds after that, notthat he's really dead even now. More on that later. The second necromancerstarted to scream which clued me into this whole space being sound-proofed.
Dot Ishara :'Let her have her fun,' shewhispered to my resurgent spirit.
"No shit," I mumbled. Since she was an intelligent& capable divinity and knew I wasn't stupid, no wait, it wasn't that her cuntitching. She couldn't read my mind and it was making her overly protective."What did SzélAnya tell you about me?"
Round Three
Sarrat Irkalli :The sole survivor, beinggripped by boundless, and totally justified, fear that he'd backed the wrongside all his life (or so I hoped), retreated to the far cabin wall. I wassitting up, so I got the full splendor of Sarrat Irkalli coagulating Tsu'sblood into some horrific crimson, liquid doppelganger of her true shape. Ilooked away and found myself staring into his terrified eyes.
"You are on your own,Buddy," I addressed him. Yes, here at the end of his existence, I wasletting him in on the fact that I did know his language and knew every evilthing he and his cohorts had said when they assumed I was both powerless andignorant.
SzélAnya :The plane bucked abruptly. A peel ofthunder vibrated the whole craft. When my feet swung off the slab small archesof electricity beat my feet to the floor. Great. More than one girl hadjokingly called me the 'Energizer Bunny', and here I was, a lighting jar. Closeenough.
Dot Ishara :'That was uncalled for and mean.Still, I accept the fact that we have used you as a lure to kill them and stealtheir souls.' Oh yeah. I should have realized that in one fell swoop, SarratIrkalli could gather up the soul, shade and essence of a major Gong taunecromancer without violating the shaky agreements that kept those factions ontheir side of the Weave.
That was pretty much it. Oh, the unnamed Gong tau mook wentdown screaming. His fists splashed through her liquid body while the talons sheformed tore chunks off his body. It took about forty-five seconds for SarratIrkalli to finish a fight that should have taken five. Oh, she wasn't done withhim, Oh no! She motioned me off the table. I rapidly complied.
She dragged his corpse onto the slab, taking my place. Whenshe did so, I noticed three things. Tsu's, his henchman's and bodyguard's soulswere all trapped in this room with us. None of them had SzélAnya's power topenetrate the wards, from the inside. The commando's ghost was slowly sittingup, clearly confused with his new state. Not Tsu though.
His specter flitted around the room, desperately trying tofind a pinprick in his wards and failing. The henchmen's soul was still coweringover the place where his body had died. Sarrat Irkalli began her own ancientSumerian invocations. Within seconds, the henchman's ghost was screaming as theritual dragged his essence back to his corpse.
The Netherworld Goddess began to 'compact' the body. Withher hand on his chest, she was exerting gravitational pressures that werecollapsing spirit, flesh, organs and bones into one 12 cm long carnivorouscreature's incisor. I could still hear him screaming inside his prison. Shepicked up her handiwork.
I was busy gathering up stuff and taking what I could fromthe deceased commando because someone would be coming back soon. I realizedthat my finger was no longer chard. I mumbled a quick thanks to Dot Ishara forhealing me. Sarrat Irkalli put a squishy hand on my right shoulder. I slippedout from under her grip and stood away from the corpse, and its soul. Quick aslightning, she skewered the guy's phantom with her new dagger. The spiritwailed as it was sucked completely into the blade.
"Hold this for me, mortal, shesaid in Sumerian. Don't stab anyone with it because that will expend its power.To recharge it, I'll need another soul. Do I need to repeat myself?"Sarrat Irkalli enlightened me. I shook my head. She flipped the blade around soshe held the curved blade and I had the hilt ~ which resembled the bleachedroot of an ancient Smilodon fang.
I gingerly received the blasphemous weapon. It's oily, foultexture was more psychosomatic than real. It didn't make it any less creepy.But it got worse.
"I'm I going to needthis?" I asked her. She'd already turned to her next task. Her bloodflowed back into Tsu's body.
When she finished 'inflating' the corpse, she began chantingusing his pale bluish lips. Tsu howled out his mind-numbing fear as he beganbeing dragged back 'home'.
"Help me!" he screamed,in Mandarin. "I'll do anything you want. Break a ward. Any ward."
"I find your lack of faithdisturbing," was all that came to mind.
He looked both terrified and confused at the same time. Whodidn't know that classic line from Star Wars, especially this ready-made minionof the Dark Side? I didn't have a chance to ask him as Sarrat Irkalli drew hissoul back into his body as if she was some sleazy time-share saleswoman who hadtricked him into a ten year lease on a condo overlooking scenic Porte auPrince, Haiti.
(A brief glimpse of why Weave of Fate is a good thing)
Of greater import to me was that I'd been handed a tool tocut the Weave of Fate and breach the barrier between the dimension as we knewthem, theCurrent Land of the Livingand the detritus, dreams,nightmares, and births not yet recorded in theOnce Had Beenandall theMight Yet Be's.
These were fractured, incomplete mirrored realities thatexisted parallel with our Earth. Realms of demons, divinities, spirits,Paradises and Hells, all intersected in the Weave. The Weave of Fate boundeverything together in order to keep Oblivion at bay. Stars were born. Fromtheir inferno's cradle, planets came into being and failed or prospered, yetall would perish.
Either the Great Fires that birthed them would consume themwhen their Star surrendered to Death, or they survived the death of theirparent only to die inside and crumble into nothingness. But presence of Lifewas never completely extinguished. It flickered here then there. Sometimes inmany places and in more than one instance hung on by a slender promise not yetunborn.
Life had found a way. I had been stupid to see the Weave asbeing solely concerned with the fates of Terra, or Sol. We terrestrials weremere a cresting of the waves of Creation ~ a minor summit in an ocean that hada history so long forgotten even the Weave could not comprehend its origin.
Divinities, they were not caretakers of the Weave. Theyhusbanded, pampered, punished and marshalled the forces of sentiency. It wasblind, deaf and dumb humanity who by the very pulse of our hearts and thefiring of our synapses, repaired and revitalized the Weave.
With our faith in our existence, on our belief in Scienceand a Universe that made sense, we fed a construct we could not classify withthe normal five senses. We would provide, until our last breathe as a species,the vitality it took for Life to spring up somewhere else and continue on whenSol gave one last explosive impulse to the Universe and consumed Terra ~devouring her child in her death-throes.
At some later date, in a twisted bout of insanity, or afevered dream, this new life would see me, my shadow, my legend. Sanity wouldreturn, the Veil would reassert itself, they would wake-up and the truth of theWeave would fade from their conscious minds, for most of them. For those tinyfew, they would become magicians, prophets, messiahs and powers so dark theywould bring nightmares to life.
(ThePlan, then the other plan, then whateverworks)
Speaking of nightmares, I was living one and I was seriouslyin the mood to share. My assets were formidable.
-Three dead bodies ~ one violently exsanguinated thenreanimated / one ripped to pieces then turned into a dagger / one electrocutedwhich qualified him as the 'least-freaky' dead.
-The aforementioned person turned into a new horrific deviceof destruction
-The aforementioned animated corpse
-One QCW-05 Chinese Suppressed Submachine Gun with21mm subsonic round, & a 50 round magazine & 4 spare magazines.
-One QSW-06 Chinese Suppressed Pistol, 21mm subsonic round,20 round Mag; 390mm with suppressor) (with 3 magazines)
-One regulation, single-bladed combat knife
-Miscellaneous bits of useful body armor
The make, model and especially the ammunition were importantbecause normally, you didn't want to fire ANY firearm on plane. Those twoChinese death dealers were 'subsonic' rounds and I was about to gamble theycouldn't punch through the plane's fuselage. Since I didn't want to die and wasfar more opposed to killing Aya while she had a chance left, I had to bet onthat.
I had put on the Chinese commando's armored vest. He was abig Han, but that didn't equate to being as big as me. He also had tiny feeta freaking 7, what had he done? Cut off the feet of a midget and sownthem on? Oh, his package was rather insignificant. I wasn't going to put on hisunderwear and his pants didn't fit. I did put on his armored knee pads andforearm guards.
The clothing of both necromancers were no longer availableso I ended up removing a black veil covering one of the windows and created animpromptu kilt; definitely not a man-skirt. I didn't care how Gaelic the Irishthought I was; I wasn't running into battle with my Family Jewels on display.The bastards I was going to kill had swords, and guns.
My plan was very basic. Using a dash of surprise, I wasgoing to sprint from my compartment over an unknown distance to the pilot'scabin and kill the Mo-Foes, the pilots that is. Why? I was betting somewhere inmy plethora of Alal-induced skills was that of a pilot. Hopefully a jet pilot.When my life was imperiled, one of my funky brain patterns would reference theskill.
Then, as the only pilot left on the plane (I hoped), I couldcrash land this pig on some neutral location. Obstacle One: out of the windowon the side I'd already exposed I saw nothing but water, way, way down. Ichecked out the other side. Tons of the blue stuff.
I took the commando's watch. It was a fancy rig that covereda multitude of time zones. It still was set on New York time, 1:20 a.m.Wednesday. I hit 'reset'. Now it was 8:20 pm Tuesday. Considering I had beenknocked out on Monday morning, this was so not good. Hmm, it seemed to bealmost, the snazzy little toy had GPS. It happily reported that I was at 16.72north, 169.24 west, which put me, over the fucking Pacific Ocean.
It had an altimeter setting. It was at 12.75 km, I wanted tovomit. I calmed myself down. New plan, just like the old plan. Nothing hadreally changed. I was going to crash land in the ocean. The Pacific Ocean. Witha planeload of people who wanted to kill me. Well, planeloadmightbean exaggeration.
There was nothing to indicate to me the size of the planeexcept that it was a commercial passenger plane. Tsu sat up. The lack of anysustenance in the past, 36 hours meant I didn't poop on myself.
"Give me back my dagger,"'Tsu' extended 'his' hand.
'Say what, Bitch? It's mine now! Finders keepers, Losersweepers.' I returned her blade in the manner it was received, hilt toward her.I could see Tsu's soul trapped within his pupils.
"What does it do?" I inquired.
"It transfers energy cross theWeave." She was 'plucking' Tsu's mind.
That wasn't too helpful.
"What is the plan?" Not-Tsu asked me. That waseven less encouraging.
"What was you three's idea for saving my life?" Irequested.
'Render this aircraft's control systems inoperable,decompress the plane by blowing out all the available portals, whisk your bodysafely outside then deposit you on the closest landmass that promises further,an inhabited island,' Dot Ishara answered from inside my head.
"What about Aya?"
"We are not here for Aya," Not-Tsu informed me.
"Well, that's not going to happen," I responded inthe negative. "Saving Aya is Priority #1. So, what can you three do? Andwhere is SzélAnya anyway?"
"She found a cyclone close by and is bringing it to us.Then she's going to harness its natural forces to fry the plane's avionics,communications and flight control systems," Not-Tsu reported with all thepassion of a person recalling the number of brown crumbs on her plate aftereating some toast.
"How many enemy are on board?"
"I take it you mean how many people are on this planethat are not Aya, Forty-seven," Ishara replied. "I can tell you wherethey are, but not what they do."
"Why not? You are a Goddess?"
"That would violate our policy of non-interferencedirectly in mortal affairs," was her comeback.
"That policy isn't stopping SzélAnya," I reposed.
"She has been driven insane with loss, hopelessness andgrief," Not-Tsu told me.
"You saved her," my Matron Goddess added. "Ifyou let me back into your mind this could go much faster."
"No. I'll live within my self-imposed limitations. Whatcan the two of you do for me, and thank you, Sarrat Irkalli, for saving mewhile looking after your 'fucking with my family for your own goddess-damnreasons' personal agenda?
"I can guide you and heal your body," Dot Isharastated.
"I can walk around in this mortal shell," Non-Tsushrugged. "I can also access Tsu's memories and pretend to be him. I canfight using his native abilities as well." Eureka!
"Can you take a pistol, go to the cockpit and kill thepilots?"
"Yes."
"How much damage can, Tsu take?"
"As long as the muscle and connective tissue isfunctioning, I can work the body. The level of physical trauma is otherwiseirrelevant. This body cannot die," she let me know.
"Didn't you make the same mistake with Grandpa?" Isuggested.
"It was not a mistake and this is different. Alal'sphysical form can quickly regenerate from any level of physical damage. Thisbody doesn't do that. Until the last of the living matter perishes, this bodywill remain Tsu's tomb. It won't even enjoy the normal levels of humanhealing."
That's what I meant about Tsu not really being dead. I hadto wonder when the last bits of DNA rotted inside bones and teeth.
To see if my plan had even a miniscule chance to work, Isnatched up /tore the Velcro on one of the seat cushions. I buckled myself intothe seat across the way, braced, and fired into the opposite (exterior) wall.Pop! (The sound suppressor worked like gangbusters). Nothing. I could do this.
Then I heard the low hissing noise. New-new plan. Just likethe old-new plan, but things had to be happen right now. The door opened and incame the 'mop and bucket' guy. I was still buckled in and the only one clearlyvisible since not-Tsu was still on the ground. His mouth opened and his lungsinflated. He was going to call for help.
I put a bullet into his chest, right of his sternum. Hepitched backwards and his accoutrements went crashing behind him. I tossednot-Tsu the pistol.
"Go kill the pilots. I'll keep as many people occupiedas I can," I hissed as I unbuckled myself. The bucket and cleaningsupplies were falling down, stairs?
"Ho?" a voicecalled out from below. "Ho, don't screw around." I had a few secondsto master the situation. I had to open not-Tsu's door, break the wards, thenrace to the sound of the voice. "He's going to get his tongue ripped out,just like the last guy," I heard some woman bitch about the imagined fateof ole Ho.
As I leapt over his body, I realized that there was anarrow, spiral stairwell going down. I rushed to the bottom super-quick. Thesix people (four men and two women) I came across in what looked to be theplane's galley were stun-fucked to see me, that's for sure.
"No sudden moves,"I kept my voice calm yet lethal. "No one has die."
They all snuck peeks up the stairwell.
"Ho won't be joining usfor the rest of the flight," I scanned the room. No one had a gun, but twoof them had nice ID badges. One said Senior Pilot and the other said SecondaryFlight Engineer (aka Co-pilot). They also had a medical cabinet.
Well, they had kept me sedated for over thirty-six hours.They had to keep that somewhere.
"Who handles themedicine here?" I asked. No takers.
"Either someone is goingto be honest, or I'm going to have to kill all six of you," I explained.No takers.
"Last chance. You mightwant to consider that I'm down here which means the people upstairs were in nocondition to stop me.
"If we help you, theywill kill us," the pilot weaseled. Didn't care. These people knew the kindof monsters they worked for. I shot that man in the heart. The rest jolted.
"I killed him because Iknew he wasn't the medical technician. I'm going to count down from 3, 2,1" Pift! There went the co-pilot.
"It is me!" theolder of the two women exclaimed. "I'm the medical technician." Theplane jolted, lurched then the engines began to race. That would be the pilotand co-pilot on duty dying.
"Inject everyone withthe drug they gave me and make it snappy," I barked. I heard mumbling inMandarin and the sounds of feet hitting the floor from the 'rear'. "What'sdown there?" It seemed that we were 'In for a Penny, in for a Pound'.
"The sleepingcoach," a steward volunteered.
"Danke," I said as I steeled myself. The planelurched again and I heard several suppressed weapons being fired from the frontof the plane. I popped out into the hall, facing the rear in a crouch. Therewere two commandoes coming my way. I went full auto. The first two were caughtflat-footed with their ballistic vests in hand. I cut them to pieces.
A third guy jumped back into his bunk, but dropped hisQCW-05. I was pretty sure the walls of the sleeping cubicle weren't nearly asthick as the fuselage. I gave that bunk eight slugs and made two other guysduck for cover. I exchanged magazines before taking the reprieve to rush thetwo men I'd fatally wounded. I snatched up their pistols, submachine guns andone ear piece then dodged back to cover.
No one was in a rush to shoot back with their QCW's; maybebecause they knew the rounds could fuck up the plane? The woman had pulled outtwo small vials and one needle. Screw the hygiene and cross contaminationissues. I slipped the earpiece on.
"How many pilots are onthe plane?" I glared at the steward.
"Ta-two," hestammered. I pointed QCW down the hallway and fired one blind burst.
"Here," I handedhim a fresh QCW. He didn't know what to do about that. "See, with thosetwo dead here and my ally killing the two in the cabin, I'm the only one leftwho can fly this plane. It would behoove you to not let your friends killme." He didn't believe me. "You, I pointed to the other woman. Callthe cockpit."
For a second she was fearful of the possible reaction of hermasters. Then the plane took a savage lurch and began descending rapidly. Shewas punching the call button like crazy. I popped off a few round in thehallway.
'Behind you!' Dot warned me.
I zipped back right before to QSW-06 rounds went racingthrough the space my head had just occupied. I poked my borrowed QCW and shotblindly back.
"Send the two pilots upimmediately," Zhen seethed.
"Lady Duan (Zhen andMu's family name), they are dead." Silence.
"What do you mean? Speakcarefully," Zhen's voice became utterly emotionless.
"I, " the femalesteward looked at me. I nodded. "The barbarian has broken free, murderedthem and multiple warriors too. He also claims he can fly the, "
The power died. We were all plunged into near darkness forseveral seconds.
What little illumination that reached us was from a handfulof uncovered seat-side portals in the front of the jet. All of that wassecondary to the plane nosing more and more.
"Cease-fire!Cease-fire!" Mu shouted. Then, over their commlink, "We must take thebarbarian alive. Teams, identify." The emergency lighting kicked on,giving the area an orange-ish glow.
"I'll make it easy onyou, Duan Mu," I interrupted the roll-call. "I speak your language,you Monkey. Drop your weapons and I'll fly this plane for you."
"Surrender, or we willkill the girl."
"Surrender, or I'll endyou all," I countered.
"You are bluffing. Youwouldn't let the child die if you could help it," he started. The planebegan to seriously nose over.
"Mu, the controls aredead," Zhen called out. "We need get to the parachutes."
Fuck, I hadn't counted on that.
'Dot?'
'We are ahead of this issue,' her psyche snuggled my mind.'Hang onto something. Wait for it.'
"Mu, you might want tohold up on killing Aya until you actually have a person successfully exit theplane first," I called out. The plane tipped forward then a thunderousboom went off beneath us resulting in the craft violently shooting up andknocking everyone into the ceiling as the plane righted itself.
The man's scream was almost lost in the explosivedecompression. Two more screams followed in quick succession. Then the jetbegan to pitch forward and rolling to the left at the same time. I threw awaymy more animalistic fears of being ripped out the plane as a prelude to a 10 kmfall and propelled myself forward. Despite the craft's roll and the aisles 10%decline.
I passed several 7P commandos who were clutching their seatswith white knuckles. A few where keeping their companions from being sucked outof the open door near the cockpit. I floated toward the yawning abyss. On thethird row from the door, Mu was crouched down, one arm around a seat belt andthe other clutching Aya to him, an arm around her chest.
I arrested my progress for a second to pull close with themboth.
"Hi Aya," I kissed her forehead. I had been aimingfor her nose, but, you know, turbulence. "Are you ready to start killingpeople?"
"Of course, Fehérmén. Where did you getthe zombie and the dragon?"
"Book of the Month Club ~ Young Adult Section," Ishouted. "Gotta go."
As I left, I heard Aya hollering at Mu,
"I told you if you didn't leave him in Mexico City, youwould all regret it," Aya reminded her Chinese captor of a conversation Ihadn't been privy to.
I was half way out the door when a silverish-gray,serpentine tail encircled me and deposited me half way into the cockpit. Zhenwas futilely struggling with the unresponsive control panel and dead stick. Iinstantly identified her problem. Non-Tsu had rammed her dagger into thepilot's console. As an isolated action, the multiple redundancies would havesurvived the damage.
As a locus for all sorts of yucky energies involving deathand decay ~ this was a NTSB technical reconstruction nightmare. That was assumingthey could locate us with the most advanced deep-sea investigating techniques.She was in the co-pilots seat. A commando was in the pilot's seat. I touchedand imparted 100 kA to the minion of all things impure and foul.
Perhaps my sense of urgency overwhelmed SzélAnya. The mancooked and exploded into man-bits. My seat was now empty. Before Zhen couldcompletely make out the coiled white-maned tail keeping me in place, theappendage withdrew. A second later, something slammed into the side of the aircraftand a smell of burning metal and rubber permeated the cabin.
We were in a bad way, but the door had been shut and sealed.I was busy waiting for Alal to show me how to fly a plane, hmm, okay, I wasn'tsure what a DC-7 was, but it wasn't a commercial jet airliner.Mother-puss-bucket, I finally found something the Old Man didn't know and itwas when my life literally depended on it.
I also find the edge of a Jian blade against my throat.
"How did you get here?"Zhen seethed, in Mandarin.
"I'm here to fly theplane."
"The controls are dead. Allthe systems are fried. Even if they did work, I've never flown something thisbig. No, I repeat, what are you doing here, and since when do you speak ourlanguage?"
"Controls, ah hah, " Ilooked over the darkened controls. The dagger!
Why the fuck would she leave it there? I looked at thenon-Tsu, whose blood was draining away at a too rapid rate. I placed my hand onthe dagger. The lights came on. The instruments weren't at 100%, Hell, theywere barely at 50%, but it was better than several seconds ago. Zhen had onehand on the co-pilot's joy stick. She had some minimal level of control.
By the look on her face, she couldn't believe my hand on thedagger and the controls coming back was anything more than a coincidence. I letgo. The lights went out again.
"By all means," I offeredher the chance to grab the dagger hilt. "What? Did you seriously believethat yours was the only mythology that mattered? You sent some sick fuck to ripmy soul out of my body and hadn't thought that my deities would protest?"
She twisted the sword around in a rapid flourish, then droveit into Non-Tsu's chest. She grabbed the arcane dagger, but nothing happened.She looked pissed. As for Tsu, he was already missing his right arm at the elbow,his left arm was gone at the shoulder, his right leg was off at the knee andhis skull was partially split and then he'd been decapitated. His blood/ichorwas rushing off elsewhere. I didn't have time to worry about where.
A quick look at his ruined face showed one haunted eyestaring back. His soul was still trapped inside his ruined mortal clay. Goodfor him. In my panic, I had zoned on the two necklaces with the bonereliquaries. The plane began to nose over to the left. If there was anypositive news going on it was that we'd dropped under 7 km.
"Do something," Zhendemanded as she yanked her hand away. I put my hand on the dagger and we hadpower once again. My other hand rested on the pilot's joy stick. The basicslike airspeed, altitude and direction were easy enough. Things like 'thrustratios' and 'engine temperatures' were something I was still trying todecipher.
"Okay. I have some conditionsbefore I save any of you," I looked at her.
"You will die before wedo," Zhen threatened. I laughed. She looked furious so I laughed harder.
"Listen you stupid cunt," and she aimed a hand-chop at my Adam's apple. I let go of the dagger andwe began to spiral out of control once more.
"Put your hand back on thedagger," she yelled.
"Why?" I shifted back inmy seat and relaxed. "In case you missed it, you gave me over to a cretinwho was going to take my soul and sell it to some demon as if it was Gatorade(I was making that up). This doesn't not inspire me to place my life in yourhands."
"The girl will die too,"she tried to get clever. She was scared and it was clawing like a wild animalbehind her eyes.
"So will your brother," Igrinned. "Under your tender mercies, you were going to try and pervert asmart, wonderful little girl and turn her into one of you sex slaves. We areboth better off dead than putting our lives back in your hands."
"Very well," she mulledthat over hurriedly. "I will give you my word that we will return the girlalive and unharmed to her people if you put this plane down in one piece. Youmust still come with us." I was distracted by something.
'Wakko, SzélAnya tells me there is an island about 20kilometers away. You can get there before this cyclone tears this craft out ofthe sky,' Dot told me. I even got a visual of the landing strip.
Honolulu it wasn't. In fact, it looked like a big slab ofconcrete at one end of a lagoon; a tiny speck in a hugely angry sea. Problem:the runway ran from North-northeast to South-southwest and we were approachingform the Southeast. I'd have to circle the landing strip in this POS, batteredby 80+ km winds, out of the Southwest.
The Alal-pilot strongly suggested I wanted to come aroundfrom the North, into the wind as opposed to it pushing me down the runway as atail wind, since the North end of the concrete was awash in the waters from thelagoon. The South end was awash in waters form the Ocean. Choices, choices.
"You are a woman in the SevenPillars, your word is useless. The only people who value you are your brother,definitely, and possibly your father, since you have some skills and you aren'ta brood mare for a man thirty years your senior. You are on the right trackwith you and yours making a pledge though," I finished the first round ofemotional Ping-Pong.
"What is going on?" Mustaggered into the cockpit, stumbling over Tsu's mangled corpse. He was back tobeing Tsu since Sarrat Irkalli had slithered her bloody ooze elsewhere.
"If he doesn't touch thatdagger, we are going to slam into the Ocean, Brother," she snarled.
"Put your hand on thedagger," Mu demanded.
"Fuck you," I laughed athim. "Where's Aya?" Mu's hands went for the back of my neck and myright elbow. Bad move. I twisted, and as I did so, I brought my QCW-05 aroundand fired off a round into his thigh right above the knee.
Since it had been in my lap, he hadn't perceived it as athreat until it was too late. Mu manned up and didn't scream. He certainly hada nasty, bleeding wound. He did slump back toward the cabin door.
"Brother!" Zhenexclaimed. She went for her sword. I pointed the gun at her.
"Do it and I'll put abullet in you too," I challenged her. She was about to say something."The only person coming into this cabin before we land is Aya and yourbrother isn't leaving until I say so."
"He'll bleed out,"Zhen pointed out. Mu was busy turning his sash into a tourniquet.
"You catch onquick," I glared. "Mu, if you patch up that one, I'll shoot you inyour other leg, or your stomach. Either Aya comes in here alone with a medicalkit, " I grabbed the dagger because Alal-pilot was strongly suggesting wewere about to be entering a dive too steep for this crate to recover from, ormaybe for a DC-7 to,
"What is going on?"Mu grimaced.
"Brother, as I told you,when he touches the dagger, we have power for controls," she was caughtbetween concern for her brother and a desire to establish some power."Give the hostage a medical kit and send her to the cockpit. Mu has beenshot."
"Duan Mu; what are yourorders," came the response. I was right. If Mu was dead, or incapacitated,the Seven Pillars troops wouldn't be looking to her for leadership.
"Hold on," Murumbled to his troops. "Why shouldn't I have you killed now and be donewith it, let us die as true warriors of the Seven Pillars?"
"Because all you willsucceed in doing is killing Aya, Mu." I was keeping it civil for the noncebecause I had renewed faith that I could save Aya. "My Goddesses are here,with me. The storm? She's mine. Your buddy lying on the ground? Take a goodlook into his left eye and wait for it to blink. Comrade Tsu brought atoothpick to an ICBM exchange and now the rest of you are paying theprice."
"His eye moved, "Mu mumbled. He really need to get that leg looked at.
"Brother, let them sendthe girl in. You are bleeding out."
"One condition, Mu,"I stopped him from doing as his sister requested. "You and everyone elseon the plane who works for you is going to swear an Oath to my Goddess."
Mu sneered over the reference to my'Pagan' Goddess.
"Do it, or I'll knee-capyour sister. We'll still land the plan, but she's going to be getting around onone leg for the rest of her life ~ as short as that may be. Swear by Isharathat neither you, nor anyone you command will lay one finger on Aya; not harm,or restrain her in any manner, and you won't shoot at me either."
"And if we do?"Zhen asked. Oh, I like clever people. I much more prefer people who think theyare far cleverer than I. I was a liberal arts major and knew the value ofproper word placement. They thought they would both lie to me and trick me evenif they didn't lie. I hadn't ask them to not attack me ~ I hated butcheringdefenseless foes.
No, I wanted Aya safe, my main goal. They assumed I hadmissed out on not completely guaranteeing my own safety. They were alsoforgetting that Aya could still kill them and I doubted she had myoverly-masculine honorable inclinations.
"I'll get your brother medicalattention.
"Fine," Mu grunted."We swear."
"Order your men to say theseexact words: 'Swear by Ishara that neither you, nor anyone you command willlay one finger on Aya; not harm, or restrain her in any manner, and you won'tshoot at me either'."
"This a magical oath," Muhissed out his pain.
"Brother, do it, please,"Zhen begged her twin. Mu relented, the order went out and the oaths of everySeven Pillars of Heaven society members was duly noted by my Goddess. None ofthe Goddesses could be around too much longer. The Gong tau threat had beenneutralized.
The Weave would want to shut this running sore and fix thisfuckup Tsu had created. Good Guys, Bad Guys, the Weave didn't care. Currently,the fear that they were close by was my greatest tool. Aya came forward. Shewas about to leap into my cluttered arms when she noted Mu looking in a badway.
"Mr. Mu, it is not too late to say you're sorry,"Aya counseled him. "Cáel is a wonderful Father and I'm sure if you reallymean it, despite all you've done to us, he'll spare you." She opened herkit and got to work using her basic Amazon First Aid skills. While Zhen and Iformulated a plan, all our communications were gone and our avionics wasunreliable, Mu helped Aya tend to his wounds.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Cáel's second vacation with Aya and friends.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
Loving yourenemy is easy. You know precisely where the two of you stand Just in case anyone cares, I do not hate China or the Chinese People. As aGlobal Power, the PRC is fair game as a great antagonist. Not only do theyhave, as of 2015, the world's largest economy, largest population and a trulyglobal Diaspora, they also have a rather totalitarian governance system thatenables them to devote scary levels of resources to any endeavor they set theirminds to. I usually paint all governments to be entities capable of great good (rarelyachieved) and great evil (because it makes such enticing fiction). In mystories, it often falls to the people within those institutions to makejudgment calls on what is the right thing to do. In my final analysis, thereare no 'Evil' governments, just evil people who use the system to get what theywant (Right where we left off)
"Okay," she popped up. She turned fearlessly toface her former tormentors and jailors.
"I had them all swear an oath to Ishara to not kill,harm, or restrain you in any manner, so have fun hunting them down. You've gotabout thirty minutes."
"Is Dot with us right now?" she gave me abone-tired smile. I nodded. "This is going to be fun," she shoutedand off she went.
'I'll be by her side', Dot whispered to me. She rose forthfrom the seat within me and followed Aya out into Seven Pillars Hell.Technically, I believed it was the Diyu of the Fiendish Child. Those maliciousbastards suffered every accident, misfortune, and nearly-impossible oddsmalfunction in the process of being subdued by a 9 year old Amazon.
Four of them died in the process of trying to kill her, whenstopping her became obviously impossible. Two had their guns blow up when theytried to shoot her, dismembering their hands and wrists. One guy was strangledin his emergency oxygen supply mask. The last guy lunged forward, slipped on acup and broke his neck when his head was caught in a folded armrest.
Twenty-eight nerve wracking minutes later.
"All done," she gave me an exhausted yettriumphant chirp. "Should I strap Mr. Mu into a chair? He's passedout."
"Zhen, buckle your brotherinto a chair and hurry back. I'll hold us steady until you get back."
Remember, I had only the use of my left hand. My right hadto stay on the dagger to keep things powered up.
"Buckle-up after you've gotten Duan Mu secured, Aya.That's his proper name."
"I know that. I was trying to keep them irritated sothey would act irrationally. You taught me that," Aya bathed me in hersinister ways and means.
Finally, it was down to me and Zhen.
"Do you think we willsucceed, Cáel Wakko Ishara?"
"I'm giving it my bestshot."
"The little girl wasright," Zhen groaned. "She told us we'd regret not killing you in NewYork when we had the chance. I thought she was being an annoying spoiled brat.I was wrong." Pause. "I know you have no reason to answer metruthfully, but when we, the rest of us, die, could you make sure my brother'sbody is returned to my father so that he can join our ancestors in the familygrave?"
"Why do you think I wouldlie to you now that we are alone?" That was a loaded question. I did themajority of my lying when I was alone with a woman.
"I, will you give meyour Oath, in your Goddess's name?"
"Nope. My Goddess haspretty much been exhausted by your boys trying to break their vows to me andAya. I'll tell you what I will do, "
"What?"
"Show me your tits andI'll promise to do my best."
"What? You want to seeme naked?" she grew indignant. "No!" It was her being a vaginalvirgin (I knew the type ~ good oral technique and bed play, but no 'go-uppy'the cunt, or ass) and me not being Han Chinese, therefore being a 'StinkyBarbarian'.
"Listen, I've neverflown a commercial jet before and neither have you. Odds are we are both goingto be dead in the next ten minutes. After all the hell you have put me through,can you at least give me some fucking inspiration. No one will ever know.Besides, imagining the perfect swell of your breast and the smooth tautness ofyour stomach, well, you are so damn perfect it is distracting!" Iprotested against the World's grand injustice (me not being Han and thus notworthy of seeing her goodies).
"Do you really think weare all about to die?" she studied me.
"I'm doing my best, but,yes, I believe we are," I stared deep into her dark brown orbs.
'You are despicable,' Isharachortled. 'I promise you, plant your seed and she will bear you a son.'
"Very well, hold ontothe controls," she said as she released her joystick. She rolled up herpadded (high-tech body-weave) shirt carefully. I was a past master of lookingwhile pretending not too look. Still,
"Can I look yet?" Ihesitantly questioned. Sure, we were about to slam an Airbus-350 into thePacific Ocean, or a concrete runway, no lights, in a cyclone, but she was'working it'. For all she knew, this striptease would be her last livingmemory.
"No." A few secondspassed.
"Now?"
"No." Oh, her topwas just cresting her highly aroused nipples, she had tiny, erect nipples. Thesmallest I had ever seen, but long, almost like tiny awls. Finally she'd playedit out as long as possible.
"Okay."
"No, wait," Ibegged. "Let me make sure everything is stable. I want to look at you foras long as I can. This will probably be the last happy moment of my life, so Iwant to make the most of it." That made her happy. I puttered around forfive seconds, then pivoted around to take in her full, topless view. I didn'tsay anything for the longest time.
"Aren't you doneyet," she grumbled. "We are about to crash."
"Oh, sorry," Iturned away. She rolled her top down quickly and we returned to trying to keepthe people we loved most in life alive. I sensed as sense of disappointment inher nonetheless.
"Perfect," I whispered. She caught it.
"What did you say? Issomething wrong?" she worried, studying her crippled command console forany errors she might have missed.
"I said 'perfect'. Iknew it, your body is perfect," I confessed. Pause.
"Oh, "
"Now I have something tolive for," I declared.
"I will never let yousee me naked again. This was a one-time thing!"
"That's two things Ihave to live for then," I countered.
"Bringing us in aliveand seeing me naked once more?" she had to be sure.
"I was going to say'seeing you naked again' and 'living', but I can see that your priorities make moresense," I conceded.
"Ah, you are right, thatI am right." Pause. "Good luck."
"On seeing you nakedagain, or surviving our landing."
"Let's start out bylanding the plane.
"And then, DuanZhen?"
"We will see, CáelIshara."
{9 pm, Tuesday, August 16th~ 23 Days to go} {aka 2 am Wednesday, Aug. 17th ~ 22 Days to go (Havenstone time)} (The following is in Mandarin until I note otherwise) "What are you doing?" I struggled to keep the panic from my voice. "Killing all these alarms," Zhen responded. She was grinding herteeth in frustration and fear. "There is nothing we can do to fix thoseproblems." "My, right rudder, its barely responding," I grunted. This wasfly-by-wire, not typical manual control, so my concern was entirely mental, notwanting to miss our turn south into the sole runaway on Johnston Atoll. Withthe steady degradation of the plane's electronics, we wouldn't make the 360 foranother pass. Landing from the southern end of the runway would put the cyclone force windsbehind us. There would be no way for the plane's two inexperienced pilots tomake that miraculous landing happen. No, we had to approach form the north,into the winds and allow nature to slow us down. "On it, I'm good," she confirmed that her co-pilot's systems were stilldoing their job. "Tell me when we are making our final approach."Zhen, my Seven Pillars of Heaven co-pilot (and designated assassin), couldn'tsee where we were going. Our avionics had perished earlier in this disaster. Goddess Dot Ishara was communicating with Goddess SzélAnya who was frolickingin this maelstrom; the Draconic Storm Divinity was in her element. Dot was 'in'her element as well ~ her last living mortal descendent (me), if you didn'tcount all those unborn offspring I'd been contributing to in the past fewweeks. 'Are you thinking about me, Wakko?' she whispered into my mind. I was WakkoIshara. I was supposed to be Yakko, but that hadn't worked out. As the 'maingirl' in the relationship between me, the leader of her Amazon House, and YakkoIshara ~ my first Ishara ancestor ~ she earned the slot of Dot (see WarnerBros.) Ishara. One of her earliest gifts to me was to make my mind inviolate to ALLsupernatural penetration which was the reason she was bothering to ask about mythoughts and intentions. 'Yes,' I thought back. 'I'm worried you are expending too much energy on mybehalf, Dot.' 'Opposed to leaving you alone with SzélAnya? I don't trust her around you.She'd make a little Dragon-offspring/avatar with you if I'm not careful.' 'If you aren't careful? Don't I get a say in all of this?' 'No. Trust me, she's clingy and you are more active than a whole temple ofBabylon's whores. Her mortal avatar would further bond your two legendstogether and your Legend is already the prop, placed with House Ishara.'Translation:MyGoddess was clingy. After all, she'd meant tosay my legend was her 'property'. "Flaps!" Zhen yelled at me. "Check your flaps. Mine keepshorting out." "On it," I replied. I'd 'zoned out', so she'd screamed at me to getmy attention back on task. Altitude, 1200 meters, which meant flaps at, fuck ifI knew. "What do I set them, Oh Shit!" I realized I'd forgotten somethinghorribly imperiling. "What?" Zhen shot me a furious look. "Fuel! We've got to start dumping the fuel!" I screamed. "Why?" "Fireball, Zhen. If we hit hard, this bitch will barbeque us," I spitthe words. "Don't you watch any airplane crash movies?" I added. "The Airbus 350 has plenty of, safeguards," "You mean like all the other ones that have failed us in the past halfhour?" "Opening main tanks #1 and #2," she grumbled. "If we are struckby another lightning bolt we could blow up in mid-air." "Won't happen," I feebly jested. "The Storm Goddess lovesme." "Does she love my brother and I?" "Nah. She wants you and everyone else on this plane dead, but she'shumoring me right now." "Flaps," she reminded me. "Why would she care about you?" "Having no other useful skills, I am a truly remarkable lover." Zhen spared me a blistering look. "You have seized this aircraft from my brother, me and forty of our bestSpecial Operations Strike Warriors. That does not qualify you as'unskilled'," she lambasted me. "Oh no? You should see a 'real' Amazon in action," I teased her."I'm just an intern who hasn't yet completed his 84 day trialperiod." I also worked the flaps. "Too much," she snapped. "If we drop below 400 kilometers perhour, these winds will slam us into the Pacific." I was adjusting the flaps appropriately as we began our final roll to the leftwhen a cloud-to-cloud bolt of electricity coursed through our craft. We didn'tblow up. "Thank you, SzélAnya," I whispered. "What?" Zhen worried. Fucking up now would be the end of us all. 'Your gratitude is overdue, Cáel,' SzélAnya slipped her murmur into thecrashing thunder and another lash of raw, natural fury. 'We will talk later.' "I thought you said she loves you." "Umm, did I forget to mention I told her I was going out for pizza andnever called her back?" "That makes no sense," Zhen glared at me briefly. I was gifted with avisual of our plane in perspective to the runway. Yay, five meter waves weresmashing into the atoll. I adjusted our yaw to the right. "We are three kilometers out," I advised her. "Flaps, spoilers," I went over my limited Alal-knowledge. This stuffworked on a piston driven commercial liner and it was the only flight data Ihad. "Landing gear," Zhen responded. She had to throttle up a littlebecause all that drag was cutting into our speed. 'You are being blown too far to the east,' SzélAnya advised. I did the best Icould. "What are you doing?" Zhen was starting to sweat. "Responding to divine intervention." "I, I see it!" Zhen's panic turned to exultation as she could finallymake out the pale concrete runway surrounded by the angry sea. Too disasters hit us simultaneously. "The left landing gear is not fully deployed," Zhen cautioned me. "We are coming in too fast anyway," I dryly noted. The Goddess hadbrought me in on target, but she knew nothing about aircraft aeronautics. The Airbus came down too hard, too fast and our left landing gear snapped onimpact. Sarrat Irkalli's parting gift was decay. Every design weak point gavein. The front fuselage broke apart, my hand on the dagger slipped and the powerdied. The front 25% of the plane spun off to the west while the remainder shotdown the runway and off the southern end of the island. Sadly we went off into the lagoon between the western side and the barrierreef. In a delayed bit of good fortune, our careening section went head to headagainst a massive storm surge. "Go!" I screamed at Zhen. She snatched up her Jian that she had used to pin the undead necromancer Tsu. Iwas right behind her, though I did stop to retrieve Sarrat Irkalli's dagger andpluck the two bone reliquaries from his neck before following Zhen's tight,athletic buns out of the cockpit and toward Aya. My diminutive better half wasstill in her seatbelt and clutching the medical bag to her chest. (English) "Cáel, I think we are sinking," she noted with a twinge ofconcern and more courage than I felt like utilizing. As Zhen was rescuing herbrother the enormity of my mistake sunk in. All the Seven Pillars people wereunconscious thus unable to save themselves from drowning. Aya's survival camefirst. I'd worried about my 'would-be executioners' later. I swept up Aya so fast it took me a second to realize she was poking me. Shehad retrieved the trinkets Felix had given Mu, our phone cards, my Dot-treatsand my Amazon blade. I quickly strapped the blade to my arm. The water wasrushing in through the severed back section. I turned to see Zhen struggling with her brother. Her look said it all. Sheexpected them both to die. She wouldn't abandon him to save herself and thewaves were too rough to make it with him. "Get as far as you can," I shouted to her over the typhoon strengthwinds. "I'll come back for you." Her face expressed how little faith she put in my promise. Zhen had no choiceleft to her. I cut off two lengths of seat-belt to give Aya a harness to wrapover my shoulder and opposite underarm. I used the second piece to create herharness I linked with my own. {Back to English as the primary language} "He'll come back for you," Aya tried to assure Zhen while I worked. "Aya, take a deep breath then expel it," I advised. The second shedid I dove into the water. I had never attempted to swim in water this nasty,but I had been dumped into a white water rapids before. That was the best Ihad. Somehow in the madness, I pointed myself in the right direction. Once more, thestorm came to my rescue. Two monster waves picked us up and pushed us towardthe edge of the runway. 'Go to the north end of the island,' Ishara told me. There is a building therethat will shelter you, and Cáel, I must leave now. Don't do it.' 'I can't not try,' I replied. 'Can you help Aya?' I gave one last appeal. Noreply. I twisted southward to locate the next monster wave. My precious cargopressed tightly to my upper torso, I flipped over so that my feet were facingtoward the onrushing runway. I'm not as dumb as I look, or sound. I bent my knees in the same way they instruct you when you go cliff diving. Upwe went. I pulled Aya and I as deep into the water as possible, up, up, crestand then down-down-down. My bare right foot hit something jagged and sharp. I'dworry about bleeding later. The momentum of that contact tried to tilt mehead-first, but I resisted. My left foot slapped down on a hard, smooth, granular surface, the sea wall.Now I swam backwards with my free arm while I raced to get my right foot backunder me. My body ended up surging forward, yet I was in control of mymovements once more. I rolled with the impact, taking the brunt to my leftshoulder while shielding Aya with my right. Three rolls and I was on my feetagain. "Aya!" I beseeched my companion. "That was fun," she yelled back over the hurricane force winds."Let's try to do this next year," the rest was lost. I keptstaggering forward in about a foot of water that the storm had flooded over theland. I looked behind me. The next wave was unfriendly. The one behind that one appeared to be a lot likewhat I imagined a Berlin Wall-sized tombstone would look like. I ran. Isurvived the first wave then gave Aya a cautionary squeeze. I felt her tinylungs inflate, soak up the salt-water spray and oxygen then flush the air backout. A few more steps then we plunged back sideways into the monster current ~ thewave had already crashed. "What did you say?" I shook Aya as we surfaced once more. "Next year, much later next year," she grinned up at me. "Aya, do you think you can," "Yes. Go find them. You gave her your word," she hugged me. "Stay on the runway, head north, Dot says there is a building up therethat is still intact. Aya, take this," I handed her the pistol and a sparemag. "Do you promise you won't let me die today?" she shouted over thewinds. I had to think about that. Aya rammed the pistol and magazine into hermedical bag's side pocket. Oaths had their own power and maybe, just maybe, DotIshara would help me honor this one. "I swear to you, I will not let you die today," I yelled back. "Then go and hurry," she hugged me as I cut her loose. "Sheneeds you more than I do. Go!" With that, we separated. Aya sluggedforward a few steps, was staggered by another wave then turned and gave me her'thumbs up'. I turned to the south and the blinding winds and terrible surf. I had to try.Alal kicked in. Jumbo commercial airliners = no help. Shipwrecks = he'd surviveda few. I mapped out in my mind the waves, winds and their direction relative tothe plane. I could still make out its half-submerged shape. The edge of the runway had a U-shaped seawall which created a peak thatchanneled the waves. I couldn't see the structure itself due to the high tide,but I could locate the wall by watching the waves break. If I could get to theoutside of the eastern peak, I would have an easier time going about thisrescue. Also, if Zhen wasn't brought in by the same waves that saved Aya and I,she would be driven to the northwest, parallel to the island. I could intercept them. I'd effective killed everyone else. Maybe, I dove in. 'Don't!' “Too late, SzélAnya,” I vaulted off the semi-submerged sea wall, then let theundertow pull me along the broken coral rocks the Navy had put there when theyexpanded the airfield in the 1960's. I kept my hands on the rocks, rock climbing in reverse. The waves passingoverhead tried to pluck me up and return me to the land. I moved as rapidly asI could, until my muscles ached from the water's chill and oxygen starvation.My lungs were on fire. I let the next wave pull me up. Fortune favors the foolishshould be my new motto. I broke thesurface just after another large wave passed by. I kept my breathing short andsteady, despite my burning hunger for air. Gulping air would only earn me amouthful of salt water. I took the reprieve in the storm's efforts to drown me. The 'foolish' was waiting for me four meters away, slightly behind me and tothe East. Zhen was being dragged past the atoll. I kept one eye on her progressand the other on the waves. A monster rolled up, I dove under and thusresurfaced less than two meters away. Zhen had Mu in a classic rescue swimposition. He was still likely to suffocate in this downpour. The look in her eyes was, pure confliction. I cut through the last bit of oceanto be at her side. My first action was to point to the next tidal beast headingfor us. (Mandarin) "I've got him. Dive beneath the wave," I hollered. Had sheresisted, all three of us would have been screwed. She didn't. I took another deep breathe then sort of freaked her out. I clamped my mouthover Mu's and expelled my air into his lungs. My right arm snaked under hisleft with my hand grabbing the back of his head. I shoved his head tightlyagainst my face, pressing his nose shut, then dove. Zhen was right behind me. After that, we had our routine down. Zhen took Mu every fourth wave. Breathingfor both him and me was tough. I'd take him back for the fifth and slowly wemade ourselves to the eastern shore. I hit first, fell flat on my face but kepta hold on Mu. I temporarily lost sight of Zhen. One life at a time. I lugged Mu up, staggered his unconscious and my exhausted forms a few feet andthen was toppled by yet another wall of water. This time, when I returned to astanding position, I check Mu's breathing. He would make it. I few more steps,another wave. I kept my footing that time. Another, Zhen came careening our wayfrom the North. The waves had swept her passed us. Zhen immediately looped her arm under Mu's right arm. That allowed her, me andour shared burden to slog another meter inland, then the next wave caught upwith us. Zhen fell; I stumbled, but righted myself and thus kept Mu from beingwashed away. Zhen rolled a few feet forward, rebounded up, only to be shovedaway when a gust of wind hit us. On her next attempt, she rejoined us. From that point onward, we were farenough away from the land's end so that we were slogging through standing waterand could resist the waves that impacted us. (Mandarin) "You came back," she shouted. There were all kinds of romantic, chivalric and very true responses to that. Ichose a half-lie. (Mandarin) "I really wanted to see your tits one moretime," I yelled. The looks she gave me was priceless. She was convinced Iwas a lunatic ~ no doubt about it. While she puzzled out her reaction/retort, we chanced upon a Quonset hut. Inits lee, we caught a break from the worst of the wind. We also picked up alittle Epona who had made the same logical choice (to get out of the wind) aswe had. My heart leapt for joy. She was grinning like an impish hellion as shetried to tell me something. I leaned down until her lips were touching my ear. "I forgot to pack my swimsuit," she chortled. "It's probably sitting at home along with my surfboard," I kissed heron the forehead. "How about we get inside, somewhere?" Aya nodded. (Mandarin) "Let's go," I roared. Zhen nodded briefly. We turned Muaround so we would be dragging him with his back to the winds. The journey tothe structure Sz That was the childish fiction I was going to use to explain what she did when Iregaled this episode to her Mother, assuming we made it back. In commonparlance, a gust of wind that must have been about 150 kilometers per hourpicked her up and off she went. Hell, I'd honored my oath to Zhen. I dropped Muand raced after my own personal good luck fairy. A freak micro-burst, shot Aya up so high I lost track of her in the rain. 'Please'. I saw my tiny human javelin plummeting to earth several meters away. Aya hadrefused to mitigate her fate by releasing the medical bag. I jumped, caught herand took another hard spill to the ground, Aya on top of me. She said somethingto me. I made it back to my knees, clutching a standing Aya firmly to my chest. "I said 'I've had enough fun for today," she sputtered. "Can wego inside now?" 'You now owe me a life, I go,' 'Thank you'. If she heard me, she didn't acknowledge it. The storm didn'trelent its assault, that was for sure. I couldn't risk losing Aya again. I had placed Zhen and Mu on solid ground soshe returned to being my top priority. I slogged my way through the typhoon,cyclone, 'what have you', only to find a solid steel door between Aya andsafety. I felt volcanic fury building up inside me. Then I remembered I stillhad a few firearms, The QCW spoke and the door popped opened. I raced around the first interiorcorner, deposited Aya, ran back to the door, reverse course, raced back to Aya,kissed her cheek then ran back out into the blinding rain and battering winds.Zhen was right where I'd left her. She had relied on me coming back, damn her. (The J S O C Building) Five minutes later, I had the Seven Pillars twins inside and the door wedgedshut. We were all temporarily safe. Here and there small puddles of water hadformed from leaks above, but otherwise the structure was solid, sound and safe.Zhen and Mu were on the opposite side of the room. After she tended to herbrother, she looked my way. I took the medical bag from a wide-eyed and happy Aya. "We are down to two of them," she shivered. "Perhaps you shouldask her to surrender now, while they still can?" I snorted then chuckled. "Do you really think the proud scions of Duan will bow before theAmazons?" I asked her. Aya fatigued mind worked that question over.
"No, you are right.I don't think they are smart enough to know when they are beat. Cáel, theycalled me 'Chǒulu de cuüw', or something like that," Aya kept hereyes on Zhen. "What does that mean?" It took me a second to piecethat together. You can tell a great deal about people if you catch them talkingabout you behind your backs, or when they think you can't understand what theyare saying. "Ugly Bug," I translated. Aya snorted. "That was rude. We can call her 'L I had to applaud her choice of names for our would-be killers. See, L "Dumu?" I indicated her. Aya's eyes sparkled. Duma was the diminutivefor 'daughter'. "Atta," she murmured back. That was 'respectful Father'; a title noAmazon girl had addressed a man with in, well maybe, ever. The term was largelyreligious and only used in the terms of female divinities referring to divinepaternals. "Take the gun," I withdrew the QSW-06 from the medical bag. "I'mgoing to take a look at Mu." I wasn't a surgeon, most of my medical skills were self-taught (I get hurt agreat deal), I was personally acquainted with pain and I wasn't easily grossedout. Alal's past granted me beaucoup knowledge to fill in the gaps. Mu wasgoing to be okay. His problems were the bullet hole, blood loss, our mutual damp condition andhis complete exhaustion. Zhen knelt close by as I cut open his pants. Thebullet was still in him. I was guessing the round had cracked his femur, notbroken it. I cleaned out the wound with minimal disturbance to Mu's sleep. Theantiseptic came next, followed by the wrapping and finally a syringe of generalantibiotic. (Mandarin) "Let's find something to dress ourselves in and then we allneed to get out of these wet clothes. If we don't shed these clothes soon,we'll get a chill we don't need," I advised. (Mandarin) "How bad is it?" she asked. She meant her brother'scondition. (Mandarin) "He'll be okay. Feel free to try and kill me when you wish. Hedoesn't need me anymore." That, pretty much confirmed for her what shesuspected, I was a lunatic. (Mandarin) "Well, okay. Thank you. I will not kill the child; I have givenyou my word." (Mandarin) "Are you talking about 'Ugly Bug'?" (Mandarin) "Oh. I thought she didn't know our language either," sheblushed then frowned. "She never revealed she understood our words." (Mandarin) "She doesn't. Aya has a phenomenal memory. All Amazons aretaught from a very young age to develop a strong eye for detail. This includesremembering words spoken around them, even if they don't know theirmeaning." That silenced her. The medical kit gifted us with five glow sticks. The women paired up to search the first, second, third and fourth floors; Ididn't trust Zhen to find something useful and report it to me. I knew women.She wouldn't kill Aya tonight and Aya would keep her honest. I went for thebasement looking for some traces of whatever infrastructure systems I couldfind. At the bottom of the stairs was a sealed door with a wheel lock. It turnedeasily in my waterlogged hands. Sure enough, there were twin generators, fuseboxes, and telephone network boards lit by two lonely ceiling lights (batterypowered). A handy-dandy laminated 'Beginners Guide' showed me how to hand-pump fuel fromthe reserve tank, 6500 gallons (87% full), into the igniter chamber and maingenerator. Then I had to hand-crank the igniter until it built up enough of acharge it would remain hot enough to begin the diesel combustion in thestarter. The next step required me to flip a few toggles, hit a red button, then a greenone that allowed the starter engine fire up the massive generator meant topower the building. I politely filled out the Engineering Log stating the timeI started the generator and the fuel level. I was to update the thing every 12hours, or until I shut things down. Since my kidnapping involved me because of my official capacity as a 'Person ofInterest', I signed off of using my (self-designated) official Mugwumpdesignator: U Haul (Unpaid Honcho Assigned Unit L). Javiera would be pleased Iwas keeping my head in the crisis, you know, by not using my real name. The next step was priming the fuse box. First, all the breakers needed to be inthe 'Off' position, check. I cut the primary fuse on. All the subsidiary lightsbut one ~ laundry room ~ turned red. The one standout was either burned out, orsomething was wrong in that room. I put that breaker in the 'locked' position. That done, I flicked all the other breakers into the 'neutral' position. Allthe lights behaved by turning yellow. Had I known at the time this base wasused for test-firing nuclear missiles, I wouldn't have been so impressed by thegovernment-made structure. One by one, I cut on forty-three of the forty-fourbreakers. On the thirty-seventh I got a really startling development. It wasn't the lights coming on in the generator room. It was the tenwalkie-talkies squawking to life. They were older than me, say something fromthe early '90's. I think I'd seen them in 'Die Hard'. That was the third bit ofgood news this place had delivered. (The generators being functional and thebreaker for the 'Communications Room' working being the first two.) A batteryindicator showed them all to be at 40% power (how much battery life that meantwasn't explained), but the chargers were working, so I took four. I'd come backfor their replacements later once those had recharged. The basement offered one other blessing, a fireman's axe. I took it off thewall sconce while leaving the plastic blade and pick covers on for now. I wentback upstairs. Not too surprisingly, it was just me and Mu and he was stillunconscious. I put one WT in his lap, put his hand over it then trotted aftermy ladies. I began cutting on the lights as I went (~ 80% of the overhead neon lightsstill worked). On the second floor, when I cut the hall lights on, Aya calledout. "Oh cool, blankets," she said. "Cáel, Atta, good job with thelights." Zhen poked her head out of the room I suspected the noise wascoming from. (Mandarin) "We have found a storeroom," she announced. I walked herway, smiling. With the lights on I could make out her sharp nipples doing theirdamnedest to poke through her sports bra. She'd shed her wet shirt, pants,socks and boots. She had a bit of a camel toe, too. I leered. For a second sheshot me an uncertain look, then followed my gaze. She blushed, grimaced my way and stormed back into the room. "Are you ogling L "Dumu, do you have to ask?" I chuckled. Zhen had her back to me, but shot angry looks over her shoulder. I didn't mind.That allowed me to ogle her ass, which I had already appreciated earlier. "Can you tell her something for me?" Aya looked my way. Sure enough,we found a store room with all kinds of olive drab clothing, blankets, M R Eesand sunscreen. "Sure." "Word for word," Aya grinned. This was going to be fun. (Mandarin) "Zhen, Aya wants me to tell you something." She looked atme grumpily while showing Aya something akin to kinship. "Cáel, finds, you, to, be, very, womanly," Aya walked me through it.Sadly, Mandarin and English don't translate over very well word for word. Thelanguages have nothing in common. Still, she puzzled it together. (Mandarin) "What, ask her what other women think of you," Zhen asked.She studied me carefully, looking for some deceptive exaggerations on my part. I translated that while we began gathering up fresh clothes for the four of us,as well as blankets, towels and food. "Tell her 'all women love you. Even the women who hate you, loveyou'," Aya proclaimed proudly. I translated; Zhen didn't believe me. (Mandarin) "Honestly, I would prefer the ones who hate me to only hate me.This wacky 'only love me if I'm broken, bleeding and enslaved at their feet' ishard on my knees," I joked. She mulled that over. We were all quiet for awhile. We allowed her to change Mu in private. Aya and I went to another room where she found my bashfulness when she strippeddown in front of her odd. Around one another, Amazons exhibited very littlebody consciousness. "Let's leave that issue with you being nine and me being raiseddifferently," I spoke with my back still to her. "Okay?" "Sure, because I love you, Atta," she let that last word roll off hertongue. Instead of going at the hopeless task of trying to fit Aya with regularclothing, I stuck her in a size-Large G I issue olive t-shirt which hung pasther knees. She decided to go with an 'Medium' instead. I had to agree. The'Large' made her look like a flying squirrel. Back with our Seven Pillars shipwreck co-survivors, we feasted on some USMilitary bounty. They were better than I'd read about. Being starving probablyhelped with that assessment. Only after I finished policing the area did Zhentake a moment to corner me away from Aya. (Mandarin) "Why did you save us?" (Mandarin) "Why does it matter? You and your brother are alive." (Mandarin) "Is it because you want my body?" she gave me that lookthat said 'I want the truth, but I'm not going to believe you whatever yousay'. Since I hit on every woman I meet, I've dealt with my fair share of thecrazy ones. (Mandarin) "Not really. I'm the type of person who doesn't want to seepeople die. Since I cause way too much dying, I make an extra effort to savelives when I can. You are attractive. Had you been a 135 kg hag, I would stillhave saved you. Your beauty is the Universe's way of giving me a break after ahorrible two days," I explained. Oh, I was lying. Had she been a 300 lbs. troll, I know I'm morally weak enoughto have first saved Aya before going back for her. I'm not a nice, pleasantPolitically Correct guy and I've known that for four years now. Know how tolie, gentlemen. (Mandarin) "Oh, thank you. I am in your debt," she bowed. (Mandarin) "Does that mean you will have sex with me now?" I inquiredhopefully. (Mandarin) "No!" she yipped. "I am notthat kind ofwoman." She turned around and stormed back to her brother. She shot meevil looks for several minutes. "Do you think she will have sex with you tonight, or will you wait untilthe morning?" Aya yawned. "Tomorrow," I ruffled her hair. "This one is going to need alittle foreplay." "My Mother would like a little foreplay," she snuck one up on me. "Do you want a little brother, or sister, that badly?" I teased. "Yes. Mom would be happy with that, Atta," she nodded sagely. Damnher. I went back upstairs, gathered up two armfuls of blankets then came backdown. I created a layered bed on the floor for the four of us. (Mandarin) "Come, join us," I offered Zhen. She was wisely cautiousbecause she wasn'tthat kind of womanand I was that kind ofguy. "Mu is the worst off so I'll sleep on one side and you sleep on theother. Aya will sleep on top of my body and we four will sleep under twoblankets. How does that sound?" See, I was back to being a thoughtful man trying to keep her brother alive andhealthy. (Mandarin) "Yes. That will work. I expect you to behave," sheinsisted. Of course I nodded to that request. I'd behave for a while, if thatmeant a girl would let down her guard. The set up started that way. Once we were all under the blankets, I caught Zhenlooking at me and Aya in her customary spot sleeping on my chest. If such apose had warmed Desiree's heart, I knew Zhen was doomed. She slowly crawled ontop of her brother. That was really the better spot for keeping him warm. She didn't recoil when I slipped my left hand into hers. That was theconclusion of my eroding of her morality for tonight. It was already lights outfor Aya and I soon followed her into slumber. She didn't let go of my handbecause she wanted me to be the hero, the man of Iron Virtue, so fate wouldpardon her for the affection sent my way ~ to her enemy. She wasn'tthat kind of woman. They never were at the start. Theyalways changed, unless I left the room in a hurry, drove off and nevercontacted them again. Otherwise, they would becomethat kind of womansoonenough. Ugh. I have a horrible life, I know. (The Morning under the Burning Sun) {11 am, Wednesday, August 17th ~ 22 Days to go (Havenstone time +5h)} (Once more, the conversation is in Mandarin) Zhen's eyes were will-o-wisps of pleasure. She was poised, in an Olympicfencer's stance, her right hand Jian pointing at me, running a straight linefrom tip, down the blade to her hand, forearm, upper arm, shoulder and to herneck. Her left hand Jian kept at the small of her back, pointingramrod-straight toward the sparsely clouded sky. I was wielding two Fireman's axes. We'd found the other on the first floor at afire-fighting station (along with a spigot and 15 meters of hose). It turnedout each floor had the same setup. The Communications Room was on the thirdfloor and that room's functionality was one of the reasons Zhen was so wound up~ more on that later. She let me become comfortable with the awkwardness of the two tools. Fireman'saxes are heavier than the Iron Age axes I'd used at Havenstone, or withKimberly at college, and longer and less balanced than my tomahawks. A bit ofAlal-introspection followed by a few practice swings and I was ready to go. "Are you sure you will be okay with those, things?" Zhen mused. "Let's find out," I laughed. Sure, she could use this practicebout/attempt to bleed off some tension as an excuse to make me dead. I wascounting on one serious factor to keep me alive. Zhen was exulting in her survival. She and Aya had spent the morning combingthe atoll for debris. They'd found six of her fellow Han, dead, washed up onthe shore along with several pieces of luggage which equated to real clothingfor her and Mu. Mu was awake and sulky. He'd missed his chance to be martyredfor his cause. I'd spent the morning calling for help ~ more on that later. At the moment, she was looking to 'school' me with her blade artistry. Sure,she had specialized weapons and over a decade of training while I had tools andan acquaintance with the necessary fighting style, but this wasn't aboutwinning. I'd been impressing on Zhen my worth as a human being for nearly threedays now. I hadn't cracked when they tortured Aya, I had managed to ensure the death oftwo of her commandoes before we even got onto the plane in New York. Sure, I'dbeen constrained and unconscious as we'd winged our way to Tampa Bay thenMexico City. I'd made up for it by killing everyone else on the plane, except herand her brother and that was only because I'd promised to save them (in hermind). I had delivered in some truly apocalyptic condition, risking my life and thelife of my boon-companion to make sure they were currently drawing breatheright now. Initially she had assumed I was completely unhinged. As the nighthad worn on, I'd given her a glimpse into an alternative motivation ~ hersexiness. She didn't want to play the helpless gentlewoman versus my ravenous barbarian.I certainly wasn't behaving like the barbarian. There was no Code of Chivalryfor me to violate. I had picked up the pieces of my shaken, chaotic life andforged ahead. That I held Aya in great affection was obvious to her now. I had not spared her the pain of torture because that was a false lure ~ Aya'ssafety ~ but I'd never deviated from thinking about my minute companion. I wasa man of compassion and an enemy who kept to his word, both baneful andgracious. Zhen lunged forward quickly. The angle of her blade made it difficult for me to predict her reach and truelocation. I had an answer for that. I let my left hand slide up to the base ofthe ax-head of that axe and used the metal to parry her blows, gauntlet like. Iwent halfway up the right axe, sacrificing cutting power for speed. I knocked her first attack aside, swung with the axe, missed then went on thedefensive. I wasn'thumiliated. I was using 'tools' after all,while she had a weapon perfected over 2300 years. To complicate things, I hadassumed she was going to fight with the blades in tandem. That wasn't her thing. She kept up the attack and defense with one hand untilher arm got tired then switched to her 'off' hand, quickly showing me she wastruly ambidextrous. Between her training, natural talent and superior weaponry,she drew first blood. The salty light ocean spray over the island made her cutacross my left forearm sting more than it normally would. She took a step back instinctively instead of pressing her advantage. That moveshocked her and pleased me. I was her sparring partner, not her enemy, for thatone critical instant. "Ow-ee!" I teased her. "Don't worry, you'll get plenty of morechances to split my heart." "Do you really believe I will try to kill you now that I owe you mybrother's life and my own?" "Of course," I smiled. "You are a professional and the pride ofyour brother and father. You are biding your time for the proper moment." No she wasn't. I'd been given her the 'shy eye' all morning long. You know,those puppy dog eyes that convey affection that must remain unspoken. Zhen ateit up. See, I was respecting her. I obviously held her up on an unobtainablepedestal because I thought she was the best thing since chopsticks. Believe me, girls want to think this way. That makes the moment when theyfinally get all wet between the legs all the more special. If I wasn'tbuttering her up as well as sexing her up, she'd feel like a total slut whenshe let me fuck her. This way, she could tell herself that she was somethingspecial in my heart. Don't get me wrong; every girl I've had sex with was and is special. Perhaps mydefinition of special and theirs is different and if I was a diction-Nazi, Imight bother trying to correct the feminine gender about this misconception.Since I'm a horn-dog, I'm happy with the way things work out, until theyfinally can't ignore the truth any longer. Then they hate me when the have sex with me. I'm okay with that. Angry sex hasits own unique quality to it. "Do you need a moment to bind your wound?" she allowed. "No. The pain will be yet another reminder of how deadly you are and Ineed all the help I can get," I sighed. "You didn't believe I was this good?" Of course I believed she was 'this good'. That wasn't the point. "Oh please," I rolled my eyes. "You are cheating." "I am not cheating," her eyes narrowed. "No?" I tilted my head to the side slightly. "Then stop lookingso damn sexy. It is killing my concentration. At least put a shirt on. My mindkeeps wandering back to our moment on the plane." That moment when Iblackmailed her into showing me her breasts. At first, the moment shamed and incensed her. Then the compliment sunk in. Her'sexy' was a weapon she was using against me. She was in black boy-shorts and ablack sports bra. That's cheating in my book. We were both barefoot which madethe warmth of the runway interesting, we had to keep moving from foot to foot.I was in a set of grey with white trim boy-shorts (7 Pillars Commando issue). "I could say the same thing about you," she countered. I do lookrather fetching in nothing but underwear. I've had way too many women tell meso to think they were doing to me (the buttering-up part) what I was doing tothem. "That's not fair," I groused. "This is all I could find thatfits me." That was almost the truth. This was all I felt comfortable with and I wanted towork on my tan anyway.
"Is that so?"she purred. "Then we are even. I find your apparel distracting aswell." Gotcha. She lunged forward and we were clashing steel once more. I changed up my tactics. I could over-extend myself because I was fighting withtwo weapons at once. My grip on the right ax lengthened and began targeting herJian. Even when she could slip the blade around the ax-head and hit my handle,the material was very resilient and could withstand a hundred such deflections. That caused her to switch up her Jian faster as my far stronger blows werehammering her muscles. Around the third, exhausting minute, I got a swing pasther, drawing a line of blood from her shoulder/upper arm section to hersternum. He bra strap on the left side was severed. Before she could do more than recover from the shock and pain, I'd hopped backthree quick steps, knelt and put my axes on the ground. She looked confused bymy vulnerability. "This is what I do when training with the Amazons," I explained. "Since I am the only male in a sea of women, I have to be extra cautionsto not offend the spectators when I wound one of the warriors I'm duelingwith." See, I was showing her my ultimate honor by comparing her favorablyto my 'senior' partners. That these exemplars were women and I had the utmost respect for femalewarriors wasn't lost on her either. She was measuring up to some reallydangerous people. She'd spent much of her life trying to be that dangerous in asociety that regulated her best to second place, or 'luck'. No male student in her school would have done as I did unless he was foolishlybesotted with her. All good, moral, upstanding manly Seven Pillarslayers-in-training were schooled to be merciless and to consider all women asweaker than men solely because they had boobs and a nice ass. "It hurts," she complained. "I need to treat it." "Let me," I stood and walked her way. I left the axes behind. Thiswas another chance to do me in. She had her left blade between us in a flash.Its blade's point rested between the ribs sheltering my heart. Gently, I pushedthe blade aside. The mental moment to slaughter me had passed. I she barely protested when Islipped an arm around her hips and steered her toward the medical kit sittingclose to one of the few palms and under some fallen palm thatch along with myQCW-05 submachine gun. I used the end of a palm frond for her to bite down on as I used someantiseptic on the wound. It was all play-drama. She'd undoubtedly sufferedthrough worse pain in silence. Those Seven Pillar bastards were a tough lot. Igave her the prop so she could be womanly for me. Why? She wanted me to see heras a sexy, desirable woman, that's why. I'd respected her as an enemy, as a sister and now as a warrior ~ an equal. Shewas ready for the 'sexy' part of the Cáel’s magical mystery tour. She grimacedas proof she was 'girlie' and my brow furrowed because I didn't want to causeher pain, which was true, just not 'furrow' worthy. The next part of my planhad to wait until I'd applied the bandage. "That should take care of it," I mumbled my assessment. "Oh," she murmured. "It feels better." I was crowding herpersonal space. Then I kissed her. "No!" she protested. Shewasn'tthat kind of girl. I looked suitably ashamed though noapology was in the offing. I got up and stormed back to my axes. Her hands migrated to her swords as I picked them up. I pretended not tonotice. Instead, I made a bee-line for the J O C Building. "Wait," she called out. She was back on her feet. I did stop butdidn't turn around. All part of the game plan. She walked over until she wasright behind me. "Why did you kiss me?" At this point she wanted to believe. I turned on her, very angry. "I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you. It was a mistakefor me to get this close to you. In a few hours, most likely, one of us isgoing to have to kill the other. Wanting you is pointless!" I growled.Bingo. Her 'happy indicators' poked up against her sweat-dampened bra. "I, I," she stammered so I kissed her again. This time, she stared atme, a study in indecision. So I dropped my axes and kissed her again. My lefthand pressed against the back of her head while my right came to rest on thesmall of her back. Before she could drop her Jain, "Don't," I broke off the kiss. "They are valuable to you. Sheaththem." Back to the kissing. I wasn't going to relent in my passions now.Zhen had to fumble through putting her two swords safely away while my tongueexplored her tongue, her teeth and tickled her cheeks from the inside. She hadzero experience with French kissing. Zhen's hands moved decisively to my hips, pulling my groin tightly to herstomach. She moaned in response to my obvious need. My right hand stroked herlower back going. "I will kill you if I must," she uttered passionately between deepbreathing exercises. Normally, that would be a turn off, but I worked withAmazons so it was no big deal. "I believe you will," I responded ardently. She pulled back her headlong enough to look deep into my eyes and read my soul. I was hedging my bets.I knew she'dtryto kill me. I also knew I'd shoot her if shedid try. My soul wasn't really lying when it confirmed her desire to be treatedlike a mature, trained threat to my every breath. "I'll try to make it quick," she blurted out before diving back intomy lips. She was taking a few quick tongue tactical lessons from my lips tohers. I was coaxing her along the amorous art of the kiss; I was making thisfun for her. A minute later, I took my turn to be stupidly romantic. "I'll try to make this last as long as possible then," I whisperedlibidinously. It took her ten second of tonsil hockey to recall what I meant.She mumbled something that turned into one long moan. "I'll make this good for you too," she worked out between some wickedsmooching. I was going to hold her to that, that last part. By complete accident, I had put out some spare blankets when I'd brought a fewout to wrap up the dead (who were all safely inside the J O C out of the Sun'sheat). I must have forgotten about them, otherwise this entire episode wouldhave lacked the feel of spontaneous lechery. Zhen had seen me bring theblankets earlier and hastened us over to them. The three of us (Zhen, Aya and I) had put tarp out to capture the morningmoisture (even though the water stores in the building were more thanadequate). We had plenty of room to walk hunched over beneath it. A fewcasually placed palm leaves, covered with some blankets she hurriedly threwdown and she was reclining with this urgent desire to pull me to her. "You have been with many women," she jolted me with her finallybraking maneuver. "Yes, even a Goddess. I told you that," I bludgeoned her with thetruth. She wasn't inquiring into my Man-slut background. Nah, she was seeinghow high the bar was for her to be the best fuck I'd ever had. I'd stumped her. I tossed out some divine sex (which I'd never actually had) toput her off her game and shake up her desire to control our intercourse. Iwanted to give her a sense of vulnerability along with a sense this was acompetition she could win. "A Dao, a rapier and a kopis are all swords, Zhen," I reasoned withher. "They are all wonderful blades and there is an art in each one." "Women are remarkably similar to deadly weapons," I gave her asalacious smile. Zhen's sexy leer returned and she pulled me down to her ownversion of argot wrestling. While she was preoccupied with that contest, Irolled us onto our sides. She was unsure what to make of that until I slipped ahand down the back of her underwear, working the material down past both cheeksin five seconds flat. Zhen countered my ploy by attempting the same feat with my underwear and miraculouslysucceeded on her second attempt. "Bra," I moaned. She moved her hands around to roll up her top and Itook the pause to completely shed my only garment. Zhen, not to be outdone,rapidly removed her sports bra and boy shorts. Had she any final reservations about the fierce fornication I was about toimpart, I buried that in one swift thrust, to cross that final, ethicalfrontier. Once she felt me, she could accept it was too late to stop thingsnow. I slowed down and she guided me further. Her virginity wasn't a matter of debate. She'd shed it years ago as part of hertraining I suspected. She could be expected to use sex as a tool in her line ofwork. Zhen was still very tight. She'd had little recent intercourse,doubtfully played with sex toys and had narrow hips, which all combined to makeher passage a snug exploration. I gave enough vigor to keep her constantly aware of my ardor for her, yet lether control the rate of my progress sinking in. When our pelvic bones touched,she bit her lip over the surprise of the situation. I could throb, and I had my'big fella' vibrating like a pro the moment I felt the entrance. I didn't want to press any farther. The sensations I was giving her weretotally new and making her emit very lewd groans and moans. Now she wasembracing beingthat kind of girlwith a passion and I wasstoking the magma chambers to bring forth her volcanic eruption. Zhen didn't have a hair trigger. She was making me work for it and I didn'tmind in the slightest. Had I not been denied sex for3 whole days,she might have fared better. I was insistent and had no trouble coming first.My splash was a totally new sensation for her. Any worry that I was a quick shooter evaporated with my continuing strenuousefforts to drive her hinny through the blanket until her ass held a permanentmarking from the palms beneath it. To further entangle her into my erotic web,I flipped us over so that she was riding like a cowgirl. I had one hand on hermid-back and the other began to playfully smack her ass. Those were light taps ~ more for shock value than any kind of super-kickingpain-play. She liked it. With the hand on her back, I leveraged our bodies sothat we met at the thirty degree plane for some serious breast appreciation. Istayed away from the teeth; we could do that later. All my action was in mymuscular tongue flicking at varying speeds while my lips adhesion pulled bloodto the surface and verified she wasn't lactating. To kiss me, she had to rock back, driving me deep. When she didn't, Ipile-drove with continuous escalation to her stimulation. In a way, all womenare the same. In far many more ways they are different. The look I receivedfrom Zhen as she rode out her bliss, holding my jaw in her two hands as I gaveher the greatest ecstasy of her life, I had seen it before and yet it was also totally new for me. Me and my momentof Zhen. "You are," she panted in Mandarin; “like no man, I have ever metbefore." "If you are asking me to surrender, I'm seriously considering it," Igently teased her. She was still in the dominant position. "Hmm," Mu muttered from the doorway. I had left it to let the breezesremove the stale smell of our living area. Had I closed the door, he couldn'thave snuck up on us and ruined our moment. He hated me and was horrificallyconflicted by what he saw his sister doing. Zhen started to scramble for herclothes. "Mu, I seduced your sister. It is what I do," I stated in the form ofan apology for me and an excuse for his sister. Zhen got her shorts on thenstopped. "No," she asserted. "No," she repeated, louder now. "Ihad the chance to kill him and didn't. Brother, I don't want to kill himanymore. Is there even a point to it?" "He is still our deadly enemy and close confidante of our chief nemesis.He must die eventually," he stated calmly. His resolve weakened slightly."There is no need for him to do so right now. What has happened, hashappened. I came out to remind you that our contact will be in touchsoon." Zhen put on her bra while I worked on my shorts. I winched when I picked up mySMG and axes, exhibiting my wound. After we stepped out from under the tarp,Zhen rebounded and kissed me on the lips quickly. She skipped off into the dimlight within. As I started to follow her, Mu put his hand on my chest. "I have no doubt you have seduced my sister and I will take extraenjoyment when you die at my hand, or at the hand of someone I direct," heglowered. "If you speak of this," he coughed, "she will," "I deserve death many times over and this is just another insult to humancompassion that I'll have to live with," I replied. What did I mean bythat? I'd let him figure it out. I had a call to make. That contact? It had started early this morning. I had climbed up on the roofin time for 'Alal' to tell me he didn't know jack about ultra-moderntelecommunications but did know something about telemetry hook-ups. (Like me,he didn't need to sleep much so he read stuff like technical manuals.) I hadalready found somebody out there who seemed cautiously helpful. Zhen was already bounding up the stairs when I got inside so I had to race tocatch up. She was a nibble lithe minx. I didn't get to grapple her before shestopped abruptly just inside the Communications room. Aya was crouched downbehind the far side of the chair closest to the critical gear. Her QSW wasleveled at Zhen until she saw me. "Please tell Zhen it isn't anything personal. I don't trust anyone whotries to kill us," Aya said as she stood. Of course, she had heard feetrunning up and done the Amazon thing; taken shelter and prepared to killanything coming through the door that wasn't me. She must have discerned myfootfalls behind Zhen's. I tapped Zhen's arm. She looked to me, smiling despite the danger. Aya was areminder that I ran with a rough and ready female crowd. Being in theirmetaphysical company was an honor for her. "Mu," I motioned back down the stairs. A peg-leg Mu would take fiveminutes of painful progress to climb all the stairs even with the palm frondcane I'd created for him. Off she scampered. "You know who else would like to be fucked that silly?" Aya banteredplayfully. "Desiree?" "Yep." "Daphne?" "Yep." "Your Mother?" "Got it in three!" she teased. "I'll let Mother know she'sadvancing in the lineup." "Please don't do that," I begged as I walked over to the console. Iplace the QCW on the table and my axes next to Aya. I worked the nobs andswitches but held off from making contact until the rest of our quartet wasthere. (Mandarin) "See," Zhen told her brother, I said he would wait for usbefore making contact. He said if we ran into a Chinese, or neutral party, hewould tell them to come get us. He is a man of Honor." Mu wasn't buying that for a second. Still, I hadn't really lied to him yet. Iwas about to. "Are you a man of honor," he studied Aya, not me, as he spoke. I extended my left arm to Aya so we could clasp, forearm to forearm. "Maybe not by your strict terms, Mu, but I will give my Word of Honor toAya, who you know I love and respect, to not do you any further harm," Isuggested. She studied me and my gesture. It took her a few seconds to work out myintentions. I was setting the groundwork of disinformation between the SevenPillars and the Amazons. See, Amazons don't have a 'word of honor'. That runscontrary to belief that race / house / team come first and foremost. To Amazons, a person putting their personal beliefs ahead of that of the Hostwas acting in a treasonous fashion. An Amazon will give her 'word of honor' toan outsider if asked and she thinks she can get an advantage by doing so. I wasletting Mu think that was really the case. Aya sold it well with her solemnity. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean they don't value the concepts of truthand honor. They weren't particularly prone to dishonorable behavior. But onlythat whatever factors do restrain them does not include some sense of personalobligation to a non-Amazon. The only people whose opinions matter are their sisters, and no Amazon wouldask another Amazon to put their personal welfare over that of their group. Thatwas the sin of Sakuniyas's sister. She held such personal love for Saku thatshe allowed her sister to kill her, even though she knew it to be the wrongthing to do for her House and the Host. That was something else I had to lookinto, damn it. I sat down and went to work. That consisted of calling for help over theairwaves. "Topaz? Topaz? This is U Haul. It is 12:00 my time." "Hello Cáel Nyilas, I have made calls in a manner similar to the ones yourequested and I am happy to inform you help is on the way," the sultryfemale voice responded. My call sign had been U Haul to maintain a veil of anonymity, but she hadpierced my pale deceptions. I had asked her to call Katrina at Havenstone and Javieraat work because being a poor shipwrecked sailor wasn't reason enough to explainmy access to the encrypted satellite system I accessed with my phone card. I didn't know how I was on such a system, so I couldn't explain it to the techperson on the other end. Wisely, she'd asked me for some people who mightvalidate the legitimacy of my urgent desire for rescue. She was suspicious bynature and my being called, well, I told her that U-Haul had stolen my name andI was currently in the court systems trying to get it back. Stunningly to everyone but Aya (who believed that I could do anything, givenenough sex appeal), Topaz agreed to help us. Twenty-three frequencies later,none of us could raise anyone else, so we were all forced to wait on Topaz to getback to us via satellite. Fearing the interim, I had asked if she could hook meup with some Direct TV. She informed me she wasn'tthat kind of system'.They never are. "So, when can we expect salvation?" I tried to act cool. "Ask her who she is with," Mu hissed at me. "You can expect the plane to arrive between 5:40 and 6:00 pm, yourtime," she answered, "and I'm with the C I A." "Woot!" I exulted in not being bound for China. That fact that sheblissfully handed over her secret identity began to feel somehow odd to me. "Tell her I demand recognition of my diplomatic status. She must," Muground out. "I'm notthat kind of system," Topaz countered. All of usclued into the fact that she was answering questions she shouldn't have beenable to hear. "Good system," I remarked. "Thank you. I have been informed that you will deal in a forthright andconfidential manner, Cáel. They also said you were most comfortable working ona first name basis." "What kind of system is she working for then? She has admitted to being amember of your federal government and I have announced my diplomaticstatus," Mu growled. "I am the kind of system that has orders from Unit Xerxes to place asanction against you and Ms. Duan to be fulfilled by Cáel if necessary, Mr. Duan." "Whoa now. No one is whacking anyone else for the foreseeable future,Topaz and exactly who has been lying to you about my character?" I asked. "Both your bosses. I explained the delicacy of your and my situation andthey told me it was a constant occurrence with you, you and women you couldn'ttalk about," Topaz enlightened me. "And they still told you to trust me?" I wondered out loud. "Aya," Topaz explained in one word. "I take it you know who that is," I nodded (though I didn't think shecould appreciate the physical gesture. "Of course. Aya Ruger was kidnapped with you on Monday, roughly 9:13 am inNew York City, New York. It was front page news around the globe."
"Oh boy," Ilooked at Aya. Amazons were supposed to avoid notoriety. There was a lengthypause. Mu quietly relayed the news to Zhen which distressed her. "So, what was it like making love under the tarp?" Topaz inquired. "Wait a second," I prevaricated. "How did you know aboutthat?" "I amthat kind of system, Cáel," she affirmed. Mutranslated which only caused Zhen greater distress. "There were blankets under there," I evaded. "That shows preplanning on your part. Most wise," she pointed out. "It was totally by accident, I swa..," I got out. "My system has a voice stress analyzer," she cut me off. Motherfucker! My feminine worst nightmare. Don't get me started on Antonio Banderasand clowns. "Do you have to use it on me?" I avoided sounding sarcastic. Therewas another long pause. "I've never thought about not using it," she confessed. Bingo. "Are you a computer?" I asked in all seriousness. Another pause. "The Turing Test? I understand you have taken it numerous times," shenoted. "You don't work for the CIA, do you?" I guessed. Pause. "Yes, though my work for the Agency is somewhat of a sideline to mydedicated purpose," she tossed me a bone. Then, "Deirdre sayshello." I was leaning toward the Illuminati anyway. Yes, I had been saved by my crazyAunts. "What kind of people are coming to get me, us?" I questioned nervously. "Military people." "What kind of military people?" "I think it is best for me to leave you guessing," she taunted me. That was okay. I had been saved by a wacky spy satellite with delusions ofArtificial Intelligence secretly operated by the CIA who secretly-secretlyreally worked for the Illuminati. With layers upon layers of byzantine program, Topaz might really have beenapproaching sentiency. I desperately wanted to go back to being a delivery boy.My sanity required it. "It was damp, warmed by compassion and stoked by passion," I relatedof my sexual session with Zhen. "It was unique in the look in her eyes when they sparkled, the curve ofher breast from beneath and the way sweat trickled in multiple rivulets downher throat. She has these two secret places, one was new to her, I couldtell," I continued. "Her heart beats strong and her breathing is evenin the manner of a true athlete." "In one way she was every bit a woman. In another, she was exactly thekind of woman I wanted her to be and that's a tough thing to do, believeme," I finished up. "You are a poet," she responded. "You should go home." Byhome I believed she meant 'Ireland'. I had this deep down sensation. "Nope. No way ~ no how," I cut that discussion off. "I prefer tolive as a free castaway on a Sun-blasted reef than a parakeet in a gildedcage." "Meet Deidre half way then?" she countered. "That I can do. When the flying monkeys let me go, have her give me acall," I agreed. Eh, I was going to end up banging an Aunt or twoeventually. As long as I was sure they weren't my real mother, I would copesomehow. "I will monitor your situation for the next two hours and be back by thetime your rescue is achieved. Until then, Cáel Nyilas," she exited ourconversation. That was okay, the Marines were on the way. It had to be theMarines. I didn't think nature made kick-ass seahorses big enough for thecavalry to come riding in on. (The Marines have landed) The first contact with our salvation force was by cell phone. We used Aya'sphone card in Zhen's phone and sure enough, a nice marine made a call when theywere twenty minutes out. The Sun hadn't set the eastern sea on fire yet.Everything in this artificial sea-skillet was beautiful. It was rendered that way because we were leaving this abandoned atoll verysoon. Fondness works that way. Their plane had the luxury of trained pilots andclear weather, so they were able to make a full circuit of the airfield beforelanding. Their landing was flawless and they even taxied the US Navy C-37B overto the J O C building ~ show offs. A Naval Lieutenant named Toffler had assured me everything was okay with hiscraft, he had two naval corpsmen onboard, as well as some 'special guests'. "Thank you for being less than perfectly helpful," I snorted. Helaughed at me. "Is your companion in the black sports bra seeing anybody?" "Her vision is 20/20, so you are out of luck, smart-ass," I laughedback. "I'll make sure to take off my wedding ring," he bantered whilerolling to a stop. "That's too bad," I faux-sympathized. "She has a thing formarried men." "Why are we rescuing you again, Joker?" "You are here to save the girl. I'm the Guy Friday," I explained. "Tell her 'the Marines have landed,' but squids are where the real actionis at," he informed me. The ramp was coming down. I went from a kneeling position to a crouched jauntto meet our guests. Two men came out of the sandstorm swept up by twin enginesgoing to idle. I could tell they had two separate types of helmets. One was theclassic 'Fritz' design. The other, "Menner? Menner!" I exulted. Here was my Romanian companion who hadallowed me to feed Ajax to an angry goddess and save hundreds of lives in theprocess. With him were five Marines from Lima Co. 3rd Battalion (Trinity), 3rdMarine Regiment ~ "Fortuna Fortes Juvat" (Fortune Favors the Brave),thank you, Grandpa. Menner was leading four men from theV (Romanian) "My brother ~ my Prince," Menner chuckled over the lowroar of the plane's engines. His eyes wandered over to the bound bodies of theSeven Pillar killers. "I see you've had your battle without waiting on therest of us this time. Are you okay?" he added. Then he squinted, "I seeyou had your usual extraordinary companions, I recognize the eyes." I looked over to Aya, who was on one knee five meters away, cradling her QSW-06in the same manner I had been holding my QCW submachine gun moments earlier.Her face was serious and her eyes carefully tracked all the new arrivals for ahostile motion. The medical pack was strapped on her back. You never knew whenyou might need more medical supplies. (Romanian) "I am bringing all my troopers home this time," I turnedback to Menner. "She needs tending to. Our kidnappers tortured her bycutting off two digits of her right middle finger. She toughed it out, gavethem nothing. She is my daughter in all the ways that matter, my friend." (Romanian) "Then she will be a princess amongst our people," hegrinned grimly. "She already embraces the responsibility." "Gang," I shouted as I motioned the three forward. "Time to gohome." Aya started trotting our way.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Rescue and patchwork relationship.
B Book 3in 18 parts, y FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
Loving yourenemy is easy, you know precisely where both of you stand The closest Marine had been waiting for me to finish my bonding moment withMenner before speaking. He walked and talked like an officer. "You are certainly Mr. Cáel Nyilas," he nodded. "I'm Lt.Robeson, United States Marine Corps. I would like to take you and your partyhome. What is the situation?" "Lieutenant, this young lady is Aya Ruger. She was kidnapped along-side meand managed to kill over twenty of our enemies, so be careful around her."I was deadly serious about what I said. Aya should get proper credit for allthe people she sedated then drowned. Dead was dead, even if it was accidental. "These two," I pointed to Zhen and Mu, "are L "If you say so, Sir," he nodded. He did believe me, yet a soldier wastaught to be skeptical of anything a civilian told him about a militarysituation. "The bodies?" "Those are the corpses we found after the storm. I decided we shouldattempt to place them in your custody so you can figure out who they are,"I suggested. "Sir, I don't think we can let civilians keep their weapons aboard theflight," the Marine Lt. stated since I had both a pistol and submachinegun, Aya had her pistol and Zhen had her and Mu's blades. A Marine NCO sent aparty to gather the dead. "Marine, I am Cáel Nyilas, Irish diplomat, freebooter and Champion of theworst possible causes," I began my spiel. "You probably have some orders concerning bringing me in alive. I am notso constrained and am more than willing to steal this aircraft and fly back toHawaii without you. My team keeps their weapons, or you give me your best shot,right now," I met his gaze. He mulled over his options. Two Romanians andtwo Marines were starting to load the ad hoc body bags aboard the C-37B. "Normally I don't take that kind of crap from a civilian and I don't wantyou to think I'm making an exception because of your Security Clearance. I'lllet your people keep your weapons, but if something goes wrong, I'm shootingyou first," he assured me. "Done deal," I offered my hand and he shook it. "Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day," he congratulated me. "What?" I gasped.
(Right where we left off)
Rescue and patchwork relationships {6 pm, Sunday, August 17th ~ 22 Days to go} {11 pm Sunday, Aug. 17th (Havenstone Time)} {And just this once, 11am Monday, Aug. 18th Beijing Time} "Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day;, nice work.," the Marinecongratulated me. "What?" "How is that possible?" muttered Mu. "Yippee!! No more burning monks," Aya fist-pumped. Personally, Ithink she did that for the enjoyment of our guardians and to piss off Zhen andMu just a tiny bit more. (Mandarin) "Brother," Zhen studied her brother's pained expression."What has gone wrong?" (Mandarin) "The province of Tibet apparently has broken away," hegroused. In English, to the Marine Lieutenant he repeated, "How is thispossible?" "I take it you didn't know Peace Talks had broken out?" he grinned. Idoubted the Lt. bought my 'these are my two Taiwanese cobelligerents' story,but belief was above his pay grade, so he didn't give a shit. "Yes," Mu mumbled, "we knew of the proposed cease-fire." "Yes, you mean both sides actually honored it?" I added. Ireallyhadbeen out things for a while. "Nearly two days ago, noon, Peking Time, the People's Republic of Chinaand the Khanate put a six month cease-fire into effect which has remainedintact for forty-one," he looked at his watch, "forty-one and a halfhours." He was being a cock to the petulant Mu. No one called Beijing'Peking' anymore. I had even ordered Beijing Duck on several menus. Peking wasthe height of Western Imperialist thinking, or so it looked to Mu. (Mandarin) "He is yanking your chain, Mu," I explained. "You arelooking pissed off at being rescued, which isn't doing my alibi for you muchgood." "My apology," Mu nodded to the lieutenant. "Is there any newsfrom the Republic of China? Are they free as well?" That was nice of Mu tocall Taiwan by its pet name, the ROC. "Not yet," he patted Mu's unwounded leg, "but with the uttershellacking the Khanate put on the People's Navy (really the People'sLiberation Army Navy, but the Marine was getting his shots in) it is only amatter of time." I had been translating in a low voice to theV (Romanian) "So, ask them if they know where their aircraft carrier is,"Menner chuckled. Most Romanians had grown up knowing of only one China. Me: (Romanian) "What!" A Naval Corpsman who didn't know Romanian, but knew 'aircraft carrier' justfine jumped in: "Oh yeah, the missing Chinese Aircraft carrier," shechortled. Mu: "What!" I'd only been gone two and a half days. What the hell had been going on?
(What had transpired inmy absence and the subsequent consequences) (Notes: P R C = People's Republic of China; PLA = People's Liberation Army; P L A N = People's Liberation Army Navy; P L A A F = People's Liberation Army Air Force; R O C = the Republic of China {aka Taiwan, aka Chinese Taipei, aka the"other China"}; The First Unification War {aka what the Khanate did to China in 2014}; Truce lasts from August 16th 2014 until February 15th, 2015 = 183 days) There are several classic blunders grownups should know to avoid: never fight aland war in Asia, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line,and, if you are going to cross a master thief, first make sure you have nothingof value. For the land war in Asia, check with my partner, the Khanate.Substituting Black Hand for Sicilian ~ check with Ajax, use an Ouija board. Sofar, destiny was batting .500. The last blunder I created entirely on my own, but I felt it was the true andright response for the circumstances. So witness the Six Families of the Ninjaand the greatest theft in all of recorded history. In the closing hours of the First Unification War, as in many wars, someserious theft was going on; mainly it was the People's Republic gettingfleeced. The most obvious and immediate blows came in the Spratlys and Parcel Islandswhere Khanate forces (actually, elements from all the JIKIT players) seized thekey island in the Parcel chain, Woody Island, and secured the P L A N base theChinese had created there, including the 2,700 meter runway built there in the1990's. The 1,443 Chinese civilians and 600 military inhabitants in the areawere incidental complications and the survivors were about to be 'repatriated'to the mainland anyway; the Khanate didn't want them hanging around as theyprepared for the inevitable end of the six-month truce. Yes, the Khanate had stolen the most important island airfield ~ an unsinkablecarrier really ~ in the South China Sea. It was also the northern end of thepotential People's Republic of China's stranglehold on the east-west sea lanesbetween East Asia and the rest of the World, i.e., roughly 25% of all globaltrade. The southern end? That would be the Spratlys. There are few 'real' islands inthat 'island group' and only two worth having: the artificial one the P L A Nwas building and the one the ROC has a 1200 meter airfield on. That artificialisland and every other PRC/P L A N outpost in the region was also stolen by theKhanate between 4 a.m. and noon of that final day of active conflict. Every geological feature that had been the basis for the PRC's claims toallofthe South China Sea was now in Khanate hands. Considering how much the P L A Nhad bullied everyone else in that portion of the globe, the Khanate taking overtheir geopolitical position was incredibly awkward. It was going to get worse. Technically, the Khanate hadn't stolen the P L A N 'South Sea Fleet' (SSF);they'd blown the fuck out of it, including sinking the sole fully-functioning PL A N carrierLiaoningas well as five of the nine destroyersand six of the nineteen frigates in her battle group. TheLiaoningandone destroyer had died in those last few hours as the SSF was racing for therelative safety of Philippine waters ~ so close, but no cigar.
So the Khanate hadstolen the ability of the P L A N to project power in the South China Sea untilFebruary 15th, 2015 when the U N brokered truce ended. But that was not theepic theft, though. That distinction went to the Ninja. What did they steal? Asemi-functional Chinese nuclear powered super-aircraft carrier still underconstruction. The beast had no official name yet, but she was a 75,000 ton engine of GlobalDomination laid down in 2011 and clearly complete enough to float and to besteered under her own power. (To be on the safe side, the Ninja includedstealing four tugboats to help in their getaway.) So, you may be askingyourself, how does one 'steal' a nuclear-powered, 1000 foot long, 275 foot wideand ten-story tall vessel? For starters, you need a plan to get on board the sucker. We had begun with theBlack Lotus. They wanted to sneak onboard, exit the dockyard the ship was beingbuilt in, then sink it off the coast so it couldn't be easily salvaged. Thatwas plan A. Enter the Khanate and their plans; they too wanted to sink this vessel, anddestroy the dry docks while they were at it. That was plan B. Actually, theKhanate desire was to contaminate that whole section of the port city withfallout from shattered reactors. They knew they would have to apply overkillwhen they smashed that bitch of a ship because the PLAN had hurriedly put onboard its defensive weaponry ~ ensuring that the Khanate couldn't easilydestroy it. For their approach, Temujin's people wanted the Black Lotus' helpwith the on-the-ground intelligence work. But the Black Lotus didn't want tohelp anyone irradiate Chinese soil. Enter JIKIT as referee. All those islands the 'Khanate' was busy stealing wereactually part of a larger JIKIT mission called Operation Prism. Another objectthat was a part of the overall plan was Operation Wo Fat, the sinking of theLiaoning~again GPS direction and distance to be courtesy of the Black Lotus. JIKIT absolutely needed the Black Lotus. The Black Lotus wouldn't help anyoneplanning on poisoning any part of China for the next thousand years. Sinkingthe unnamed and incomplete vessel off the coast in deep waters meant no nuclearleakage and plenty of post-war time to salvage the wreck before it did start tohemorrhage. The Khanate wanted to kill this potential strategic nightmare nomatter what it cost the Chinese ecology. JIKIT went to the Ninja to help them adjudicate the issue. All the lightsflared brightly in Ninja-Town when they heard of that delicate dilemma. Theycould make everybody happy and send a clear message to the Seven Pillarsexpressing how unhappy the six surviving families were about the 7P's trying toannihilate them when all of this 'unpleasantness' began. The Khanate was already going to blast the shipyards and docks, the Black Lotuswas already going to sail the ship into deep waters, so why not take it onestep further, sail the ship into Japanese waters and declare it Khanateproperty as a colossalFuck You!to the PRC, PLAN andspecifically the Seven Pillars, all at the same time? Now normally, you can't steal a ship that big. The owners will notice it ismissing and come looking for it. And you can't sell or hide the damn thing. So,you steal it at the tail end of a war before the players can capture, or sinkit. It just so happened the Ninja had access to a war and such a time table.
The next problem: wheredo you put it? The Khanate's closest safe haven was 8,000 km away at theEastern Mediterranean Seaport of Izmir. But wait! The Khanate was about to steal an island airbase with its own (albeit small)harbor. The Khanate was confident that a few weeks after the truce, analternate port, or two, would become available for the two-to-three yearprocess it would require to prepare the vessel so it could be commissioned asthe true warship it was meant to be. So, how do you steal a well-guarded, humongous ship with its skeleton crew of500? You need a distraction ~ a big one. Remember those Khanate airstrikes?They intended to destroy the dockyards anyway. Now all they had to do was'miss' the carrier. They could do that. If you recall, to dissuade the Khanate from sinking theship in the final days of the war, the PLAN had hastily put teeth on the thingby giving it all its pre-designed defensive weaponry and added jury-riggedradar and sonar systems. The carrier could defend itself if needed. With thenew plan (C), the airstrikes could avoid those teeth, thus reducing the risk oflosing their precious planes and pilots. A series of bombing runs and missile hits near the carrier would convince thePLAN admiral in charge to hurriedly put some distance between the ship andshore, Not out to sea. That would be stupid. Within the harbor, his weaponrycould adequately defend his ship. And if she took serious damage, he could runher aground, so the vessel wouldn't really sink. The only problem was that out in the harbor, with everything exploding, he wasaway from the only ground security support available. That was when theAmazons, Black Lotus, Ninja and JIKIT mercenaries would make their move. Howcould they sneak up on such a big, important ship? By using the submarines theUS Navy, the British Royal Navy and Japanese Defense Force were providing, ofcourse. Note: As I stated earlier, Lady Fathom, Addison and Riki hadwanderedway off the reservation. By this time, if you were a Japanese,British, or American submarine commander in the Yellow Sea and you weren't partof this madness, you were insanely jealous of those who were. The missions JIKIT was sending them on were: -definitely Acts of War if they were ever discovered, -far more dangerous than any war game exercise they'd ever been part of, and -the ultimate test of their crews and equipment. These people weren't suicidal. They believed they were the best sneaks underthe Seven Seas and now they could prove it ~ in 50 years when this stuff wasdeclassified (if it ever was). For the one American, two British and four Japanese submarines inserting theassault teams, this whole mission had a surreal feel to it. They weretransporting a packed assortment of women of Indian, Malaysian and Indonesiandescent along with some very lithe Japanese ladies and gents, none of whotalked a whole lot. There was a third group with the spooky women and spookier Japanese teams, andthat group was scared shitless about the sudden turn their lives had taken.They were all former American and British servicewomen (to not tick off theAmazons too much) with carrier and/or nuclear reactor experience who had beenRIFed (Reduction in Force, aka fired) in the past five years from theirrespective national navies. Around a week ago, they had all answered an advertisement by a logisticssupport corporation that was going to do a 'force modernization' in an unnamedcountry. They all knew that mean the Khanate. The job had been laid out as'basically your old job with the addition of training the natives' and itincluded the promise of no combat. It was a guaranteed five year contract with an option for a year-to-yearextensions for another five years if you desired to stick around. For that, youreceived your 'pay grade upon retirement + 20%', free room and board, privatesecurity, judicial protections and a Then 72 hours ago, a different group from the same company came knocking on thewomen's doors. If you could come with them right then and there, they had asatchel of money, Twenty-four hours later those who accepted the money found themselves in asmall fishing village on Ko Island, Japan. There some rather fiercely intensepeople outlined the job they were needed for. From a submarine, the assaultteams would sneak aboard the carrier, neutralize the crew and then the new crew(them) would sail it to Jeju, Jeju Island, South Korea. At that point they would be allowed to stay with the vessel (preferred), ordepart for a non-war zone of their choice. Both options came with another Of the 312 job applicants, 293 volunteered for both the first and second partsof the assignment. With the technical and linguistic expertise of the Amazonsand 9 Clan members that would be enough to get their prize to Jeju Island'stemporary safety and then make the last leg to Woody Island and a morepermanent anchorage. Besides the airstrikes to goad the carrier away from the wharves, all theKhanate had to do with the carrier was put three or four clearly Mongolianfaces onboard when the various nations of the world came calling. After all,what was the public going to believe:, the Khanate had pulled off yet another daring(i.e., mostly JIKIT) Special Forces coup, just as they'd managed to dothroughout this short war, or that 'Ninjas stole my Battleship, umm, carrier'stuff some PRC leaders were claiming? Forty-eight hours later the whole globewas able to watch the newly named Khanate supercarrier, the The PRC did complain to the United Nations over the 'theft' of both the carrierand 'their' islands, but the Security Council, led by the UK, could and woulddo nothing about the 'latest round of injustices heaped upon the People ofChina'. By the time the UN got around to doing nothing, the next round of JIKITdiplomacy was causing the PRC even greater headaches. Thatgreatest theft, while remarkable in its own right, was reallya sideshow to the reordering of the political order in Southeast Asia. The bigwinner wasn't the Khanate. And it certainly wasn't the mainland Chinese. No,the nations to immediately prosper were an unlikely pair, the Republic of Indiaand the People's Republic of Vietnam (PRV). The Republic of China (R O C) wasalso getting its own small boost as well. By gambling their precious navy, India had become the largest power broker in theSouth China Sea's resource bonanza. She went from a minimal presence to beingthe critical ally of the Khanate and the 'big stick' (naval-wise) of Asia's newdynamic duo. The Indians had the only two functional aircraft carriers in theregion and the Khanate had Woody Island with a mega-carrier number of planessitting on it. Their combined naval aviation was not something any of the others powers wantedto mess with. The duo then sealed their supremacy by making the duo a trio.That third member was the PRV. Vietnam was the land-based logistical anchor ofthe three regional powers. Not only did Vietnam gain the prestige denied it for over two centuries, itredressed the P L A N humiliating treatment of their own navy for the pastthirty years. The Khanate's naval aviation would shield Vietnam's economicexploitation of the Parcel Islands. The Indian Navy could counter anything theP L A N South China fleet could come at them with. Yes, the P L A N had two other fleets, the Northern and Eastern, but both hadbeen put through their own 1001 levels of Hell by the Khanate's air power, plusthey had to protect the Chinese heartland from Russia and North Koreanambitions. The South Koreans and Japanese were suddenly a very real threat fromthe East too. But for the time being, the Indians had the decisive edge. The final location for the The Vietnamese were thinking with more than their testicles, as were theIndians. Sure, geopolitical clout was nice, yet that was only the icing on theeconomic cake that was the Parcel Island Accords. That hasty bit of JIKITbackroom dealings gave a 50% stake in the Parcels to the PRV.
India got 20% of something she had 0% in a monthago. The Khanate gained a 20% stake for their audacity and the ROC gained 10%because the other three would protect its share from the PRC. Something wasbetter than nothing and the three legitimate powers agreed to the deal becausein less than six months, the PRC would be back in the game. The Indians and Vietnamese wanted the Khanate to stay interested in the regionand the Taiwanese wanted to forge closer ties to the Khanate. That treaty was a'no-brainer'. Within one week, the Vietnamese were strutting like peacocks andinternal political opposition to the Indian intervention into the South ChinaSea in the Indian parliament was silent. The Spratly Islands was a tougher deal to work out within the six monthtimetable. There were more players ~ the Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei,Indonesia and Thailand (who had a non-functional carrier). The JIKIT deal gaveeveryone but the Indians a 10% piece of the huge natural gas, oil and fisheriespie and the Indians got 20% once more. The Philippines and Malaysia were both very opposed to this treaty; theybelieved they deserved a far larger portion of those regional resources.Indonesia and Thailand also felt they could hold out for a bigger slice andweren't happy with India getting so much for basically having a double handfulof ships (34 actually) sailing about. That 'handful of ships' was the point JIKIT was trying to make. If the PRC beatthe Khanate next year, did any of the players think the PRC would give themanything, even if they promised them more right now? Really? When the PLAN hadthe biggest guns, they hadn't respected any other claims to the region. Whywould that change in the future? The reality was this: India would only stick around if they had the economicincentive to remain. Vietnam, the Khanate and the ROC were watching the clockand realized this was the best deal they would get. Brunei and the Philippineswere also coming to that understanding. Brunei was tiny (thus easy to defend),very rich already and a good ally of the British. The Philippines had a very weak navy and a non-existent naval air force. Theycouldn't even enforce their current claims versus Brunei, much less confrontthe PLAN, or any other nation's current military. The Philippines was, sadly,relatively big and very poor. Its big traditional ally was the United States,and the US was currently busy doing 'not much' about the South China Seasituation. The world's biggest navy was partially taking up its traditional (and treatybound) role of interposing itself between the North Koreans, PLAN/PLAAF andRussians arrayed near Japan and South Korea, or busily not 'ratcheting uptensions' in the region by sending more forces into the front lines. President Obama was urging dialogue and 'stepping back from the brink' eventhough every country in Southeast Asia felt the brink had already dissipatedthe moment the PRC was forced to accept the cease-fire. In this context, thePhilippines had good reason to be feeling lonely at the moment. Bizarrely, both New Delhi and Hanoi were singing the praises of US Secretary ofState John Kerry and the Rt. Honorable Phillip Hammond, Secretary for Foreignand Commonwealth Affairs for the UK, for their deft handling of the crisis,thank you, Riki Martin and Lady Yum-Yum. Riki wasn't expecting any thanks. She was certain she'd be fired and imprisonedfor the rest of her life. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke was sure she'd get twoadditional knighthoods out of the deal, which would look very nice engraved onher tombstone. Javiera had long ago decided to face the music and go down withthe ship, so to speak. The CIA's Addison Stuart already had her exit strategy. She was going to gowork for the Khanate, building up their clandestine service when this whole madscheme collapsed into recriminations and 'extreme sanctions'. Mehmet, Air ForceSr. Master Sgt. Billings and Agent-86 had all decided to go with her. Katrinahad their escape plane on standby. Mehmet's family was already 'vacationing' inCanada. Anyway, the Republic of India, the Khanate, the Republic of China, the People'sRepublic of Vietnam (the Vietnamese were happy to already be getting half ofthe Parcel Island windfall), the Sultanate Brunei (Lady Fathom 'knew' somepeople and the Sultan was an autocratic Muslim ruler, just like the Great Khan)and the Philippines (because they had no other true choice) were all comingaround to signing the Spratly Accords. Indonesia and Thailand were kind of waiting for a better deal. Malaysia wasdownright hostile, having gravitated toward the PRC over the past decade andbeen assured by the PRC a better apportionment would be their reward forupsetting the treaty process. The Great Khan's answer was simple. He publically threatened the MalaysianFederation in general and both the King (Sultan Abdul Halim of Kedah) and PrimeMinister of Malay (Dato' Sri Najib Tun Razak) in particular with militaryaction if they kept dragging their feet. He even told them how he'd do it. He'd butcher or expel every living thing inthe states of Perlis and Kedah (~ 2.1 million people) and give those emptylands to Thailand to settle along with the added sweetener of Malaysia's 10% ofthe Spratlys. He would also invade Eastern Malaysia, taking the island state ofLabuan for himself while giving Sarawak to Indonesia and Sabah to thePhilippines if those to states agreed to the split. He'd also decimate their navy & air force before devastating every portcity, just like he'd done to China. He'd already killed more than two millionChinese. What was another two million Malays to him? Also, Indonesia wantedSarawak and the Philippines had claims on Sabah. While they were openly andpublically defying the Great Khan's plan, could Malaysia really take thechance? What would India and Thailand do while this was going on? Thailand stated thatit would protect its territorial integrity, whatever that meant. India wasn'treturning Malaysia's phone calls while showing their populace re-runs ofMalaysian violence against their Hindu minority, the bastards! To the world, the Indian Navy proclaimed it would 'defend itself and its supplylines' which was a subtle hint that they would shepherd any Khanate invasionforce to their destination. Why would the Indians be so insensitive? TheMalaysians were screwing up their deal to get 20% of both the Parcel andSpratlys wealth, that's why. If the Khanate went down, there was no way India could defend their claims(which they'd won by doing nothing up until now). Oh yeah, Vietnam begangathering up warplanes, warships, transport ships and troops for the quick (710km) jaunt across the Gulf of Thailand to north-eastern Malaysia to killMalaysians because Vietnam needed the Khanate to ensure their own economicfuture as well. That military prospect had a cascade effect, especially among the Indonesianmilitary. If the Indian Navy remained active, the vastly more populous WesternMalaysia couldn't reinforce the state of Sarawak. Sure, the Philippines wasunlikely to conquer Sabah on their own, but all the Indonesians needed was forSabah to be kept pre-occupied while their army took their promised territory,fulfilling a fifty year old dream of conquest/unification. The United Nations blustered. It wasn't that they didn't care, they did. Theyalso cared about the deteriorating situations in Libya, Nigeria, Syria andUkraine. The situation was complicated by the unwillingness of the permanentmembers of the Security Council, namely the PRC and Russia, to recognize theKhanate. In reverse, when those two tried to stick it to the Khanate, the UK stoicallyvetoed them. Why? Well, more on that later. Let's just say the Khanate was goodfor business in the European Union in general and the United Kingdom inparticular because the Khanate was prepared to economically befriend theBritish. Ireland was being treated in a promising manner too. The UnitedStates,the United Nations? Let's just say that in the two months following the cease-fire, the Khanatebloodily and brutally solved the ISIS conundrum and the Donbass Crisis. Whenthe smoke cleared, the Khanate had reintroduced the practice of impalement tothe modern battlefield, driven the separatists from the Ukraine and was on theborder with Israel and Jordan. Sure, the Ukrainians were stun-fucked by the Khanate's 'peace-keepers' going ona bloody rampage through the eastern rebellious regions, but they had deliveredup peace by mid-September. Yes, the Russians were in an uproar about theimpalements. As the Khanate spokesperson said, 'if they aren't your people, then it is notyour problem' and 'there are no more Russians left alive in the Ukraine'. Infact, fewer than a thousand people, all armed insurgents, were executed in sucha manner, but the terror created by the highly publicized killings had theeffect of sending a hundred thousand people stampeding over the frontier intoRussia proper. Next, the Khanate said it wanted to 'reexamine' the Crimean situation. Therewere Turcoman in that area and they weren't being treated well, or so it wasclaimed. Even as Russia and the Khanate were posturing in the Donbass, the Khanatestruck in the Middle East. By the end of September, Syria and Lebanon hadceased to exist as organized entities. Most of those two countries as well asportions of western Iraq became Turkish provinces in the Khanateinfrastructure. Northeastern Syria, southeastern Turkey and northern Iraq becamethe Khanate state of Kurdistan. It was a campaign reminiscent of the 13th century Mongol conquest, not a modernmilitary struggle. Whole villages were eradicated. The entire Arab populationof Mosul was exiled to the new territories in the East. The city wasrepopulated with Kurds from Turkey. Back in Turkey, those Kurds were replacedby Armenians from Azerbaijan, cauterizing another internal issue within theKhanate. Jordan was cautiously hopeful. Israel? "We don't seem to be havingproblems with Hezbollah anymore," with a shrug and "it could beworse." As for ISIS; there really was an Islamic State controlling morethan half of Iraq and all of Syria now and it allowed no other pretenders tothat distinction. By the time the world woke up to that reality though, theGreat Hunt had happened and I was dealing with the consequences of that. A larger ideological and political matter was occurring in the United States,the United Kingdom (and to a limited extent Australia and Canada). TheRamshackle Empire (aka the Khanate) was just that ~ a Frankenstein nationfueled more by nationalistic pride and nostalgia for a Super-State (that onlytwo living people had firsthand experience with) than an integrated armedforces and infrastructure. It may have been built upon more than a 13th century creation and two hundredyears of real and imagined oppression. It did have long term planning and realgenius driving it forward. Having throttled the PRC into giving them sixprecious months of peace to 'tidy up the backyard' (aka the Middle East andRussia) and forge a true nation, the Khanate was now hiring experts to aid themin the task. First and foremost, Temujin and the Earth & Sky had envisioned an armedstate built upon military principles and discipline. Fate had delivered to themthe means of their own salvation in the form of NATO's policy of disarmamentand 'Reduction-In-Force' levels (RIFed). The US and UK had trained tens of thousands of male and female volunteers intheir Armed Forces in infrastructure creation and management for theAfghanistan and Iraq campaigns. From 2010, those militaries had informed thoseexperts that their services were no longer required. Unlike the shrinkingmilitaries of the 1990's, there was no private sector to 'soak up' the majorityof those personnel. The Earth & Sky had been working on the problem of nation-building on atime table and they kept coming up short. They had to fight to create theirstate first, so the all-important after-battle had been something their leadersdreaded. Temujin had been understanding about not everything being 100% ready.Few wars were fought that way. Then a youngmaleAmazon of mixed Magyar ancestry talkedhistory with the Earth & Sky representative to a seemingly inconsequentialpersonage's funeral. A few critical E&S leaders (a minority, to be sure)immediately sought ways to cultivate this man into what was a ten year plan toopen doors to the Amazons. Then that man saved the Great Khan's life andeverything changed. Before the E&S had even remotely considered directly approaching theAmazons for help, the Amazons came knocking on their door. The Seven Pillars ofHeaven had tried to kidnap a camp full of Amazon children ~ an assault on theirfuture. The two secret societies were bound by one unique, fortunate idiot anda mutual thirst for vengeance. They were also directed by two incredibly foresighted, ambitious and brilliantpeople. In Katrina of Epona, the E&S elders found someone who equaled theirhope to see the Seven Pillars humbled and humbled immediately. Moreover, thesewere the Amazons they were dealing with. Amazons always sought both lightningdecisions and long term solutions. From the moment Iskender left his third meeting with Cáel Nyilas, Katrina putthe fruits of the First Directive (the Amazons efforts to recruit militantoutsider women) into overdrive. Havenstone had the apparatus in place to screenpotential inductees. All they had to do was add a "can you suggest anyother people who might be interested in this line of work" box to theiremployment forms. That brought men into the process in surprising numbers. The market was flushwith military veterans having trouble readjusting to the civilian community.The Khanate wasn't hiring killers. They wanted ex-military and civilian policeofficers to create a national police force. They also wanted engineers and builders, cadres for their cadet corps and awhole range of specialist in jobs most of the Western World took for granted.The money came from off-shore accounts funded by Havenstone International. Theemployment opportunities came from Earth & Sky front companies operating inthe UK and the US (and Israel, but that was another matter). They had already started hiring scores of civilian English-speaking experts tohelp build their newborn nation's infrastructure before the first blow landed.English hadn't been chosen out of any cultural bias. Relying on Russian andChinese sources wasn't feasible, the Khanate wasn't overly linguisticallygifted where distant tongues were concerned and, as pointed out, theEnglish-speaking world had a glut of applicants. Now to the problem, there were people in the US and UK who weren't happy withtheir citizenry going to the Khanate and helping them to survive and thrive.These power groups wanted the Mongol-Turkish Empire to keep the resourcesflowing to the West, without any reciprocal commitment on their part. Imagine their surprise when some wonks at the State Department and ForeignMinistries found bundles of expedited passport requests to the (former) nationsof Turkmenistan, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan and Mongolia (andlater Afghanistan and Iraq). The Department of Defense Ministry ofDefense were discovering their former military personnel and civilian contractorswith Security Clearances were heading the same way. Of all those destinations, only Mongolia and Kazakhstan were under any kind of'Restricted Travel' advisories. Barring any coherent anti-Khanate strategy fromtheir administrations, the bureaucracies were doing their jobs, with Havenstoneexerting just enough influence to get the job done while flying beneath theradar. After JIKIT was created, the group had a US Senator greasing the wheels to getthe requests expedited. In England, Lady Worthington-Burke shamelessly used thepeople at the other end of the O'Shea hotline to get the job done overseas. Shedid have to sell out a teammate, but that was what good boys were for ~ takingone for the team. (That would be me, if there was any misunderstanding.) When Cáel Nyilas was kidnapped under the watchful eye of the FBI (I wasn't surehow they got that bum-wrap), the whole situation exploded. The PRC didn't haveme, yet promised they might produce me if certain concessions were made.According to Addison, I was worth 5,000 barrels a day of refined fuel oil and50 tons of coal a month, and the Great Khan agreed to pay! Woot! I was loved bysomebody who was a somebody. All that attention drove home some salient points. I was a noble scion ofIreland, Romania, Georgia and Armenia (in no particular order) and they allwanted to know why the US had let me be kidnapped. Didn't my president know Iwas a sacred national treasure? After JIKIT tracked down the bribes andclandestine activities to Chinese shell corporations, those powers wanted toknow what sanctions would be applied. 'But wait, wasn't I a private citizen?' my national leaders pleaded. Then thePRC made a case which boiled down to 'I had it coming for being a
to Hana Sulkanenand abrotherto the Great Khan', while ignoring me beingsnatched in the territorial US of A. Of course, they didn't claim to haveactually done the kidnapping. Javiera was waiting on that one; 'What was their excuse for kidnapping a littleUS girl to force my compliance?' The furious Federal authorities even found twodead adult bodies and two digits from said child to add to the media frenzy. Toprove I had migrated to fantasy land, the CNN journalist got it right ~ theyhad tortured the girl and I had killed two of them for it. Just ask theRomanian Army how lethal I could be. In a rare comment, Temujin informed the international press that he believed Iwas still alive. Why did he believe that? If I wasn't, they would have beenable to spot the pile of dead enemy around me and my 'boon companion' (go Aya!)from orbit. Until they discovered this carnal pit from Hell, I was surely stillalive. Just at the cusp of turning publically against the Mongol barbarians, the worldsuddenly got angry with their enemy, the PRC. The principal two Western regimeswere paralyzed with indecision until my miraculous cry for help from the middleof the Pacific showed the world I was alive, had punished my enemies andrescued others from under the opponent's cruel thumb. Clearly if I started ranting against the People's Republic of China, mygovernment would be rather peeved with me. I hadn't screwed a dozen poli-scimajors to miss out on that obvious situation. I behaved and hoped they wouldn'tmake me die from an embolism, or some other equally implausible cause. (DC is a marvel. 9 pm, Monday, August 18th. 21 days) I'd been dragged to DC, to honor promises made in Rome a week ago. I hadanother choice; I could have justifiably said I was still getting over mykidnapping ordeal. But that choice fucked over Javiera Castello, my boss atJIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Task force). That was how I ended up in a 'secret and secure' meeting with Tony Blinken,Deputy National Security Advisor (DNSA) and his experts. He was someone I didn'tknow. The rest, I'd had a verbal run-in with them after the Romanian bloodbath.I'd been cranky. I would hardly consider us to be on good terms now. All four experts were from the US State Department. They were foregoing theirusual group of flunkies because this meeting wasn't really happening. All theparticipants were officially somewhere else, mostly not even in D.C. Had thissoiree 'really happened', the Congressional sub-committees would have been ableto request the minutes of Tony's meeting with members of JIKIT and:
· Victoria Nuland, Ass. Sec. of State for European& Eurasian Affairs (ASSEEA)
· Robert O. Blake Jr., Ass. Sec. of State for S& C Asian Affairs (ASSCAA)
· Daniel R. Russel, Ass. Sec. of State for E. Asianand Pacific Affairs (ASSEAP)
· Bill A. Miller, Director of the U.S. DiplomaticSecurity Service (DSS) (aka Big Willy)
We made stiff, formalintroductions (which signaled the utter lack of trust in the room.) Javierahadn't wanted to put me through an interrogation this soon after my near-deathexperience, considering my snarky nature when stressed. The White House wasputting the squeeze on her. The main player was Tony, who talked with theLeader of the Free World on a weekly, if not daily, basis. The Diplomatic Security Service people had successfully peeled off Pamela andmy SD Amazons only after they agreed I could keep Aya. They tolerated mekeeping the nine-year old girl despite the obvious fact she had gone throughworse hardships than I had endured and was still packing her Chinese QSW-06suppressed pistol. I had already fabricated and submitted my report on how I'd overcome aplane-full of rogue delinquents from theForumi i Rinis That's right, the Albanians had it out for me. I reiterated that critical bitof data to the Department of Homeland Security when they questioned me on the veracityof my memories. The two ethnic Chinese I was found with? I thought they werefrom Taiwan, and they both appeared to be suffering from amnesia. I was already suffering repercussions from my pathological refusal to take lifeseriously. Javiera believed I was about to get a formal apology from FeritHoxha, Permanent Representative of Albania to the United Nations. Damn it! NowI had to do something nice for the Albanians. Maybe I'd offer them membershipin the Khanate, full-statehood with an economic package to sweeten the deal. Yes, that was how AlbaniaandKosovo joined the Khanate, aproduct of my love for exaggeration and a little post-Ottoman solidarity overTarator (cold soup made of yoghurt, garlic, parsley, cucumber, salt and oliveoil with a side of fried squids), Tav We had toasted the Pillars of Kanun (Albanian oral law and tradition): ~Nderi(honor),Mikpritja(hospitality),Sjellja(RightConduct) andFis(Kin Loyalty), ~ and he promised to tell hispeople that I hadBesawhich was an Albanian-ism for being aman who would honor his word of honor (despite us being brought together by mylie). The shit-ton of financial and military aid I asked the Great Khan tosweeten the pot with might have helped as well. Later, Lady Yum-Yum told me that the military leaders of NATO called it a'master-stroke' in neutralizing Comrade Putin's Russian-backed 'Greek threat'to the Khanate's Turkey. Fathom patted my cheek while telling me that mythunder-stunned look was 'so adorable.' Once more my big heart and dumb luckgave the world an unlooked-for pinprick. How angry was my pal Vladimir (Putin)with me? Let's just say that I was still invited to Moscow, but when Putinpatted me on the back, I should expect a dagger to be in his hand; the twin ofthe one I'd accidently stuck into him. Why was Russia riling up the Greeks against the Turks (not that it was all thathard)? One word: Ukraine. I'll get back to that at the end of August. At themoment, the meeting was all about introducing me to a depraved portion of theinternet Web-verse devoted to coverage of the Khanate's campaign inside China ~lots of really gory, nightmare-inducing stuff. I looked over the videos full of blank-faced, traumatized men and women:bloody, diseased, starving and neglected. Then came the scenes of pyramids ofhuman heads neatly arranged on street corners. The Khanate's security troopswere shown moving past these and other grisly reminders of who was currentlywinning and who was losing this titanic struggle. The Mongolian and Turkish troops moved about without a hint of remorse, orstress. No sympathy was exhibited for the Han Chinese being systematicallyherded out and driven east, back into 'China'. Not all the Han were beingexpelled. If they had skills of critical importance, they could stay. Thatcourtesy also included all mixed ethnic families. Other footage showed swift justice being administered for the slightest sortsof offenses, often including the killing of multiple family members for onemember's crime. The Khanate troops methodically participated in this mercilessexercise of ethnic cleansing. Before long, the 'offenders' stopped begging and pleading because it was clearthe Mongolian and Turkish troops remained unmoved. This wasn't rabid hatred, itwas schooled indifference. They had a task to do ~ inflict utter barbarity uponthe Chinese civilian population. PLA soldiers and PLAAF prisoners fared muchbetter, a distinction I wasn't sure my fellow American's understood. At thestart, I didn't understand any of it either. Oh, I knew Temujin wanted 'the invading Chinese' driven out, but seeing thatactually play out was, stomach-churning. Fate (that Bitch) was a never-endingcornucopia of pain, pain with lessons attached. After all, my fellow Amazonswere in the process of killing all their fathers; their brothers were longsince dead. Had I not suffered through that pain, I couldn't have looked at Temujin'satrocities with the new eyes I discovered. I wasn't okay with what washappening to all those innocents trapped in a life-and-death struggle that hadbeen going on for over 250 years. That was one of the new lenses I brought tomy life now. Evil is not excusable. But with personal moral strength, you can end the cycle of violence, learn toaccept, forgive and adapt. Survival was a virtue. None of that stopped evilfrom happening though. Nor did it make all evil inexplicable. This evil hadplenty of reasons ~ they simply weren't reasons I liked, or would haveaccepted. Except, always 'except', Temujin and I were bound; life to life. I had save hislife, thus taking partial ownership for the actions of the man whose life I'dhelp perpetuate. "Okay," I spoke after going through thirty-seven minutes ofman's inhumanity to man, "this is some fucked-up shit." "Is that all you have to say?" Victoria Nuland inquired with deepinterest. For her, it would be very disappointing if a man with my charisma andinfluence was a narcissistic monster. She had daughters after all, and she washot in a bookish, 'I want to rule the world with a gentle hand' sort of way. "Terrorists," Daniel, Riki's boss sneered. He still hadn't forgivenme for busting his chops after Romania. "That is precisely what they are."At least Victoria had my 'adoption' of Georgia's plight in her department 'win'column. "I'm sitting on another one of his down the hall," Mr. Martin added. That was most likely one of my Kurds; who had been fighting a guerilla waragainst the Iranians, Iraqis and Turks for the last forty years. I wasn't goingto blow up and act juvenile. That would set a bad example for Aya, and shestill had her pistol. She was scanning the room, soaking up the details whilekeeping an ear in on our conversation. "How to make my position clear?" I mused. "I saw a securitytrooper crack open an infant's head with a 2x4. It freaks me out and I thinkyou are all missing the two most critical aspects in every single video,"I trudged into the sludgy, murky water of political psychology. "Mr. Nyilas, we have had experts go over every aspect of this footage andhours more. Your Khanate m, allies haven't been bashful," Tony, theringleader in this little circus, began the process of making me duly penitentto his way of thinking. Insinuating that the Khanate's considered me asubservient with his 'm' leading to 'master' trick, he had the wrong guy.
He wasn't my type and I've had girlfriends fake pregnancies on me on multipleoccasions trying to guilt me into compliance. Every libido-driven bi-sexual andheterosexual male who has ever gone to a liberal arts college has taken ArtHistory. That course and Modern Lit., Hemingway, Joyce and Kerouac, are allfull-access passes into any wannabe female artist/rebel's bedroom.
I also learned something about art work; its creation and application, becausemy Art History professor was passionate about more than a bunch of deadpainters. Kimberly, my mentor, trained me to appreciate those other femininefacets they chose to reveal to me, it was the same way with my gun-lover,pandering to your lover's non-sexual obsessions added a whole new spice rack toevery erotic encounter.
"I agree that you've had experts study them for every littlenuisance to put in your dossiers leading to the inevitable investigations, theissuing of warrants and the open-and-shut trials. You've been adding to yourfacial recognition software database for the inevitable War CrimesTribunal," I forged ahead.
"I am telling you that you are barking up the wrong tree. Those peopledon't care what you think and it is your own damn fault."
"Do you care to go on record as supporting this behavior?" Tony wastrying to back me into a corner.
"Tony, answer me two questions?" I requested. Since he was theaggressor here, he decided that letting me stick my neck out was the best move.
"Sure," he nodded. "I'd like to see your spin on this." No,he didn't want to hear my opinions as a counterpoint to his preconceivednotions. He was gathering ammo to blast me with, because he knew he was rightand thus I had to be wrong.
"Your buddies are pissing ISIL off," Robert mocked me. "Theirrape camps and beheading of common criminals is being out-shone by your Asiancompatriots' inhuman behavior." I wasn't going to backslide into counter-mockery.
"What is the average age of the Khanate security troops in question andwhat are the camera angles and quality of virtually all the shots?" Iposed.
"They are older than your average jihadist," Big Willy allowed.
"More accurately; they are all forty-five to fifty-five," I kepthammering away. "That places them past the enlistment age for regularKhanate armed forces," I said. "The troops we are watching havespecifically been trained for this job. This isn't some random terrorist act.In fact, it isn't classical terrorism at all."
"First biological warfare and now mass graves?" Miller countered.
"I'm not saying what they are doing isn't abhorrent, people," I shookmy head. "What I am telling you is that what they are doing isn't aimed atthe West. It is an internal decision on the Khanate's part and a verydeliberate one. I can prove that by the second fact I picked up." Iwaited. I was past the 'gifted amateur' phase, hallelujah, Dot Ishara.
"This was all high-quality camera footage," I explained."Journalists are walking around Xinjiang Uyghur and they took this inbroad daylight and the soldiers didn't care. The Khanate isn't worried aboutour opinions and thatISthe fault of everyone one in this room thatisn't me, or Aya."
"So, you are an apologist," Daniel accused me.
"Don't get stupid on me now, Daniel," I interrupted. "What I'mtrying to tell you, please look past your current group-think, is that anymoral ascendency you think that Western Civilization has, you never had."I paused, then pushed on, "You are deluding yourself into believing youhave grasped what's going on here."
"Enlighten us," Tony leaned back in his chair and clasped his handsbehind his head. He was acting confident, but he was actually quite worried.Here was someone who had been listening to Javiera; the woman standing grimlyby my side.
"This war and tit-for-tat mass slaughter didn't start in 2014," Ibuilt up steam. "It started in the mid-18th century with the massextinction of the native Mongolian peoples in the Dzungaria/Northern Xinjiangregion and has continued non-stop since then."
"What you see is the Khanate acting in a deliberate manner, yet you don'tunderstand their actions are fueled by the deliberate attempt by the HanChinese to exterminate them. These aren't actions designed to take thisconflict into a psychological paradigm. This is a visceral ethnic conflictbased on real grievances and a pre-existing danger of extinction."
"Now, I know this administration is all for globalization and culturalhomogeneity. In your world view, that means secularism and social liberalism.To the Khanate, it means 'They Cease To Exist'., And they cease to existbecause you are letting the Han Chinese billions and the Russian millions dothem in, as they have been for the past 200 years," I told them.
"Why would they buy into this view of ours?" I asked. "TheMongols and Turks certainly don't think you are pro-Islamic, despite ourPresident's repeated platitudes to that effect."
"That is correcting over a century of Eurocentric thinking," Tonydefended his boss's stance.
"They don't care," I stated firmly. "They don't see yousupporting a faith you don't possess; they see you abandoning a Christian faithyou privately denigrate and devalue and holding out the expectation that theywill reciprocate by surrendering a faith that they do value."
"They see you yourself improving upon a highly imperfect past ~ things youare ashamed of ~ while they view their past and their faith as a source ofpride. You are approaching the Great Khan as if he was some primitivescrew-head who needs to educate his people so that they can be as enlightenedas you are."
"Your experts are creating their psychological profiles for you with theiriron-clad prejudices about what is right and wrong. That renders you incapableof understanding that there is any way the Khanate are right and you arewrong," I let that hang there. I could see Big Willy and Victoria comingaround to the idea they might not know everything.
I'd participated in far more psychological tests than was safe for amanipulator like me (female psych students love giving standardized tests, andfinding my secret, tragic flaws and then spending a few weeks trying to 'cure'me.) Tony was a patriot in the cause of his boss's boss, POTUS. I was afraid hewas a lost cause.
Robert was in 'political-creature' mode. He'd move whichever way helped hiscareer. Daniel was forever my enemy for personal and political reason andwouldn't agree with anything I said this side of Judgment Day.
"I can tell you resent his hubris, Tony," I kept his focus.
"Your problem is that his violence is 'correct' because he's using it toeffectively erase six hundred years of fragmentation in a matter of weeks andthe West is wrong because it has failed, through both diplomacy and armedforce, to make the global community a safer place ever since you had thewherewithal to do so.
Finally, through no fault of your own, the overall economic disparity has beenclosing, just not closing fast enough."
"Cultural rejection, religious conservatism and unbalanced economicgrowth," Victoria nodded. Robert agreed.
"How do we get the man called Temujin to accept mediation?" Robert'sattention had gone from hostile and a tad condescending to studious.
"Two options," I mulled things over. I was so used to beingunderappreciated, this acceptance had me off-center.
"As quick as you can, hit him in the nose hard with everything you've got,or stress to him that you will stand by his side, right now. Unless the UnitedStates makes an immediate commitment, either way, he has no reason to rein inany of the behaviors you find reprehensible."
"Oh, and a War Crimes Tribunal is a pitiful joke," I cut out a pieceof their imagined leverage. "He's got the resources to defy you and he isdoing so because he has zero respect for the United States, the E U and theUnited Nations. He currently controls too much of what the West needs."
"When the Chinese make their resurgence," Daniel glared.
"Won't matter. This is a death-grapple and he's going to ensure any deathof the dream of a Mongol-Turkish Empire is accompanied by an utter catastrophefor everyone else ~ the Khanate goes down guns blazing," I said. "Hedoesn't doubt his country's resolve.
"He's counting on you tonotembrace the realization that youcan only stop his force with naked aggression of your own:boots on thegroundand thousands of US military personnel coming home in body bagsevery month for half a year at least, if we, you, don't get your asses entirelykicked."
"The Khanate has enjoyed some success in their surprise attack, but theUnited States has the strongest military on the planet," Danielconfidently affirmed.
"One, I'm not so sure of that, and not because I don't believe in the USfighting man and woman. I'm saying it because the Khanate isn't some half-assedreligious militia, or Arab conscript force that will sit around waiting to getbombed."
"I imagine if you get feisty, really feisty to the point he is sure youhave his demise in mind, he'll pop off a few medium range IntercontinentalBallistic missiles with nuclear warheads toward the Persian Gulf," I lied.
I knew theKhan didn't have nuclear missiles, and I was wrong again. Two days before I found myself in a room, rallying to the Khanate's defense,they'd stumbled across (quite literally) five DF-31A Ballistic Missiles (roadcapable) with a range over 10,000 km, and each carrying a 4.5 megaton warhead,the bad-luck faeries? Worse, the capture was made possible by a JIKIT team ofGreen Beret and Gurkha, so the US and UK were soon going to get the bad news,just not soon enough for them to stop the Khanate from scooping up the missilesand escaping with them into the interior. How about my threat against the Persian Gulf and Saudi fields? When the Germanmarket closed the day before the Khanate's attack, Oil was trading at $12 abarrel. When the exchanges opened this morning ~ $55 and rising. Why? China'sdomestic production had evaporated even as their demands skyrocketed. Between the Russian and Khanate land-grabs and the Khanate air offensive, the PL A, P L A A F, P L A N and the PRC's struggling economy were creating a hugesurge in foreign demand. Add the ISIL advances on Mosul in Iraq plus theKhanate's sudden appearance in the Middle East (Turkey and Azerbaijan) andcommodity brokers were running scared. "Can you give us any insight about their nuclear program?"Daniel (Russel) leaned forward in his chair. "Give us something useful foronce." "That is the most idiotic thing I've heard today," Javiera glared."Everything Cáel has provided us has been both useful and timely." "How can you say that?" Daniel stood up angrily. "No one seemsto know what your taskforce is doing, in any of our department's areas ofresponsibility." "That's not so," I shook my head. "Daniel, you don't knowbecause I don't trust you to not squeal to the PRC about Khanateintentions." "Since Cáel doesn't trust You, Mr. Russel, you and anyone who wouldconfide in you is being kept out of the loop," Javiera simmered. "That lack of interdepartmental cooperation stops now, Ms. Javiera,"Tony decided. "No sir," Javiera confronted him. "It was Mr. Ali-Sharif's calland I back him 100%. In JIKIT's case, a leak of information will result in alevel of response from our current partners we would all findunacceptable." "I think the President would see it differently," Tony yanked hard onJaviera's reins. "Very well, Mr. Blinken. If that is how you feel, I can speak for thewhole team and tell you right now, everyone will resign. We will do thisbecause we don't want to have our loved ones killed when, inevitably, ourpartners determine their intelligence data is being used against theirinterests. Then they will start cauterizing anyone remotely associated with thatleak," Javiera coolly 'read in' the room.
"Youbelieve these associates of yours represent a 'clear and present' danger,"Tony studied Javiera intently. "Sir, I received a dossier on you this morning with my normal briefing. Itwas a simple affair ~ you and your wife's schedule for the day, your daughter'sdaycare location and a list of seven employees of that daycare center." "They are threatening my family," Tony stood up slowly, pissed, notfrightened. "No threat was ever mentioned, Mr. Blinken. There was no indication howany of that information was gathered. It simply showed up as so many things doin JIKIT. Those people providing us with up to the minute intelligence aroundthe globe aren't doing it for any monetary recompense. "They are doing it because Mr. Nyilas needs them to give us that data.They are acting on a personal relationship with Cáel, origins unknown, and whenwe permanently lose him, we lose that access," she explained. "And I jump on a private plane to Ireland," I added. The Emerald Islewas still granting me diplomatic status. "Mr. Blinken, you might want to tell the agency currently investigatingthe three foreign nationals currently with the team, as well as the groupinvestigating Havenstone Commercial Investments, that Havenstone is on to themand they do not appreciate our behavior," Javiera cautioned Tony. "This is the United States, we know they maintain a small armed militia onour soil, have multinational assets and they have ties to a global terroristnetwork, Ms. Castello," Tony tried to remind her which side she was on. "Those men and women are federal agents, like me, so I felt I had to warnyou that they are becoming involved with violently inclined people," shestated. "You need to think what you are going to do when those agentsstart disappearing, Sir. I have no indications they have hostile intent towardus at this very minute. I can tell you they view the members of JIKIT asallies, but not our governments. So any protection our alliance gives us is ofa personal nature." "Are they, or are they not, working with your organization?" Billmuttered darkly. "They are working with JIKIT," was her clipped reply. "But they are not working with the President of the United States,"Victoria reasoned. "Precisely," Javiera looked her way. "Since the US doesn'trecognize them as extra-territorial entities, or the Khanate's right to existas a state, they see no reason to look past the task force on matters ofindividual loyalty and commitment." "Atta, why are we here?" Aya looked past the bandage over her missingfinger at me. "These adults do not want to adapt. And failure to adapt is the clearestform of cultural suicide," she reasoned. "Now that we have ourbreathing room, do we still need these prominent people of great importance tothe United States?" The worst part of her questioning was that she sounded so tired and frail, yetdetermined and exasperated with her elders. "Dumu, they live in a world were challenge is a "popularitycontest" and the loser gets to go home with their fortunes, their futuresand their lives. If they lose, they get to try again later, as long as one canbe selected to take the blame for the rest. It is governance by the consensusof cultured intellectuals," I tried to put to a face to my ownfrustrations. "Thank you, little girl," Tony headed off Daniel's angry retort. "I do not wish to be rude, or impudent Mr. Blinken," she drew herpistol and pointed at Mr. Miller, the only other person with a weapon in theroom. "Mr. Miller, I will kill you before you can draw so, for the sake ofyour family and your associates, please do not test my resolve." "I am not a warrior. I am the child of warriors and I will act to protectmy people. I do not wish to die. I know that after I dispose of you and Mr.Blinken, I will be arrested and I rely on my people to retrieve me when theyare able," she stated. "Don't say anything," I cautioned Daniel. My pleading was done withmy eyes. "Now, Mr. Blinken, who will replace you after I kill Mr. Miller andyou?" Aya continued." "Aya don't," Javiera tried to maneuver on Aya. My little Valkyrie hadpositioned herself too well to be rushed before she got off four shots ~ maybefive. "Cáel." "Ms. Castello," Aya's eyes turned all misty and soulful, "theworld is too small a place for this kind of hidebound thinking. I will besaddened if America destroys itself. I really like living here. My firstinstincts must be to defend my people, not yours. Answer my question, Mr.Blinken." "Mr. Nyilas, this has been a crude and pathetic distraction," Tonyglared at me. "You aren't going to shoot Daniel?" I blithely questioned Aya. "No Atta, the world is filled with too many assholes to run aroundshooting all of them. Ambition and loyalty are yin and yang. When they areimbalanced, what can we do but let him follow his destructive course," Ayaanswered. "Cáel?" Javiera pressed me. "Aya, disarm, deliver your weapon to Mr. Miller then step outside toreceive whatever punishment he commands," I demanded with great sadness.Sometimes I still didn't get Amazons. Aya was acting like Pamela, acting, ohHell. Smoothly, Aya pointed her weapon to the ceiling, removed the magazine,chambered out the last round and delivered all three parts to Big Willy. Hetook in her actions with the eyes of a practiced shooter. "Would you have killed me?" he inquired. "You didn't attempt to draw your weapon so you will never know for sure,Mr. Miller," Aya regarded him sagely. "Do you think I would havekilled you and Mr. Blinken?" "Yes," he nodded. "I believe you would have." "Miller, arrest that childe," Tony insisted. "No sir," he turned on the head honcho. "It was my mistake thatallowed a child to bring a suppressed Chinese pistol into this meeting becausemy people saw a small, damaged child. I was almost fatally wrong in myassessment of her." "I will make sure to put that in my report," Tony threatened. "Make sure you do that, Mr. Blinken," Big Willy stood firm. "Letthe Boss know his chief of Diplomatic Security, every one of us mistook thistiny warrior for a harmless threat. I'm willing to admit I was wrong." "Do we need any more proof these people are all terrorists?" DanielRussel seethed. "She gave up her weapon without a struggle," Victoria snapped back."She showed remarkable decision-making for a, what, nine year oldgirl?" "Yes Mrs. Nuland; I am nine. But I will be ten in October," she endedon an upbeat note. "Fanatic," Daniel began feeling trapped and alone. "I see a woman driven and fully aware of her situation in the World, Mr.Russel," Javiera remarked. "Because of your poor advice, Mr. Blinkenalmost died. That is what JIKIT is doing ~ keeping the adults of Aya's societythinking we are the good guys." "Tony?" Daniel looked to the senior member in the room. "Hold on Daniel," Tony held up his hand. "I'm grappling with thefact I was nearly deliberately killed by a child the same age as my oldestson." Aya had pulled off a 'crazy Pamela'. Now I needed to keep her out of prison. "I brought her in here knowing she was armed," I declared. "I'm well aware of that, Mr. Nyilas," Miller glared at me. "Youwere also aware of her training and nature. She can't be arrested for treason,you can be." "I was not acting under Cáel’s orders," Aya protested. "Javieradidn't know anything about what I planned to do either." "Why is she 'Javiera' while we are Mr. and Mrs.?" Victoria asked. "She's one of the good guys," Aya smiled at the lady. "Theverdict is out on you and Mr. Miller. I don't hold out much hope for Mr. Blinken.Mr. Russel is a lost cause." Everyone ceased talking as Tony began pacing back and forth. "I think we have resolved enough for today," he announced. "Ms.Castello, make sure Mr. Nyilas is available for further consultations. In caseyou are confused by that order, let me make it clear: he is not to leave thecountry." "Sorry Tony, I have to go to Brazil," I spouted off. "It can wait," he stared at me. "For you Tony, I'll make a conscious effort to not get kidnapped, or goall Soldier-of-Fortune on ya," I grinned. "After all, I voted foryour guy." "Oh God," Tony muttered. "Never tell anyone that." "Sure thing. Can I have my Aya back now? She's all tuckered out. You know:tortured, dragged halfway around the globe, killed a plane load of vile villains,swam through a typhoon and was forced to eat MRE's. Oh, and it is past herbedtime." "Mr. Miller?" Blinken looked to his subordinate. "Take her," Big Willy sent my fey angel back to me. "But I'mgoing to keep the gun." "We are adjourned," Tony waved us off as he quick-footed it to thedoor. "I'm going to have Buffy kick your ass," Javiera whispered to me. "Me?" Aya peeped, actually looking worried. "No, him," her eyes flickered from Aya to me. "Well, please don't do it soon. Cáel promised to sleep with myMother." "I did not," I protested. "Yes, you did," Aya gave her version of events. "You said shewas third in the rankings behind Desiree and Daphne." "What kind of man are you?" Victoria walked with us out the door. "One who is inbigtrouble," Javiera picked on me. "I knew I would regret not getting eaten by a shark," I groused. "Mr. Nyilas, Cáel, can I get in on a few of your briefings? I want to giveyou my input on the Caucasus issues that have arisen inside the Khanate,"Victoria prodded. "Sure," I yawned. "Clear it with your guy from State and I'llsend you the invite. Honestly, I need to get some serious, non-jetlagshuteye." "You have your meeting with the Kurds," Javiera reminded me. "Dumu, if you really loved me, you would have shot me," I groaned. "I love you Atta, but you have tasks to perform," Aya nestled upagainst me. I still had several hours of brain-racking work to do it seemed. (Catching up on sleep and other things) {11 pm Tuesday, Aug. 19th ~ 20 Days to go} Monday night into Tuesday morning, I sold the Kurds on the idea that talking tothe Khanate military advisors and 'regional specialists' (the Hashashin) was intheir combined best interests. My ally in international warmongering wasAddison Stuart this time out. She'd developed an instinct and respect for theKhanate's way of thinking and for 'direct action'. That meant 'my people' wouldtalk to her without checking with me first ~ which was fine by me. The Kurds were split on wanting: full independence, full independence down theline, the status quo and being a palatinate province within the Great Khanate.I was stressing the latter. Strangely it was my Friday night meeting withGeorgia and Armenia that won them over to considering my way of thinking. Theywould arrange the meetings. They had to hurry. On Saturday, September 13th, while I was being hunted downby bodacious Amazons, seven KhanateTumenswould be headingtoward the Turkish border with Syria and Iraq. In theory, they would be joinedby massed forces of Armenians and Georgians in the 'anti-ISIL/ISIS,anti-Syrian' Third Campaign of the First Unification War (the Middle Eastedition). This would be the last gasp of the Khanate for some time. Her equipment wasworn down, they needed to raise and equip new military formations and theystill had to worry about Iran, who they didn't have the time or strength leftto deal with in any way save diplomacy. If this campaign succeeded, and itcouldn't without the Kurds coming on board, the Khanate would have a strongsouthern frontier. They could trust Israel, Jordan and Saudi Arabia a hell of a lot more than theycould trust Lebanon, Iraq and Syria. Sure, a Shia Iraq would remain. Let the UNand Iran figure out what to do with that oil-rich rump state. The Great Khanwanted as little to do with the Sunni/Shia divide as possible. At the end of the campaign, the Khanate was going to make some religiousenemies in the present to solidify their technological future. They wouldunilaterally acknowledge the State of Israel. They would also recognize thatthe Saud Royal family was the custodian of Mecca and Medina while Israel wasthe guardian of the third most holy site in Islam, Jerusalem. As a final sign of friendship to the Jewish state, the Khanate was shipping outall the Palestinian refugees still in Lebanese and Syrian camps to China tojoin the Arabs of Mosul in repopulating the conquered regions. The Great Khanwas making concrete steps to ending the 'Palestinian Question' once and forall. It was harsh, but it solved the issue by creating a 'New PalestinianHomeland'. It also assured Arab 'fear and loathing' of Mongols would be aliveand well for one generation more, at the very least. The millennia old hatred levied by Levant Arabs against the Turks and Mongolswasn't going to go away. This mass deportation wouldn't help with that,initially. The Khanate had two factors they were, quite frankly by this time itwas the word'praying', would help cool the situation over time. First off, the sheer number of Arabs being sent to Xiang Uyghur meant acultural identity would remain (so realistically, they couldn't be turned intoatheistic Chinese). Secondly, the land they were being sent to was worthsomething economically, politically and militarily. The former Palestinians,Syrians and Iraqis could make their fortunes filling in the roles formerlyoccupied by theonce economically advantaged, but now-banishedChinese. Homes and businesses already existed, the remaining natives would be friendly,yet respectful of their cultural heritage and they would be safer than they hadbeen in their former homelands, or refugee camps. They would be afraid fortheir future and the next round to Khanate-PRC violence. With the best spin onthe situation, their fellow Islamic pilots would be flying against the infidelto keep them safe. Civil war would be a thing of the past and their critical role in creating anew Khanate would be evident, or so the Khanate's leaders beseeched Allah,Buddha, Christ, shamanistic spirits and their ancestors. For me, that was inthe far distant future (i.e. post Hunt). I had my own agenda and the moment wecould move around the small jet taking us back to NYC, I put my plan intomotion. "Javiera, I think I really need a break from this insanity," Ibegged. "Okay," she yawned. "I know that everyone has been putting, did you say 'okay'?" "Yes, Cáel," she gave a weary grin. "We were all expecting youto make the request and the team is willing to muddle through for a week or twowithout you." "I, uh, thanks," I slouched in my seat. "I'm not letting anyonedown?" "No Cáel," she responded with some mirth. "You've been throughmore hell with less training than anyone else on the team. Color Sgt. Tomorrowhas been especially worried about you trying too hard to be, well, more likehim." "Oh." "He trained for years in the military to be mentally and physically fitenough to take this kind of grinding action," she reminded me. "Youaren't prepared for this. I am a veteran prosecutor and I'm being mentallyground down. I'm taking a break next weekend and unwinding at an undisclosedlocation. Rikki is afraid that if she takes a break, Mr. Russel will replaceher with one of his clones. We are doing what we can for her." "Fathom and Addison couldn't be happier to be living under this constantlevel of stress, but this is precisely what they volunteered for. The rest haveagreed that they will pull their 365, then they are out ~ either out of thecountry, or asking to be reassigned, provided we aren't on the run, or injail." "I'm not going to argue with you," I sighed happily. "I'm goingto take my Aya and go home." Aya's eyes had shut the moment the planestarted taxing down the runway. "So, what are you going to do on your seven days off?" Javiera asked. "Not fourteen?" I teased. "Okay, I'm going to go back towork," I grinned. "I'm going to fulfill the role I was hired for ~ agopher. It was where I was happiest." "I'm proud of you," she grinned then yawned once more. "Why?" "The top two choices for what you would do were 'running for your life'and a weeklong orgy," she joked. "You aren't burying yourself indoubt and self-pity. Staying active is key and you knew that instinctively ~ noprodding necessary." "Cool. I'm finally living up to people's expectations." Javiera gave one more tired yawn, smiled at me, then slid her seat to thehorizontal position. I still had one last bit of business to deal with. Pamelawas three rows back and waiting. Since joining me in Los Angeles, she had beenutterly silent. We had not had a chance to be alone. We sat side by side on the small jet for a few minutes. Pamela was waiting forJaviera to start snoring. (Amazon) "I almost killed her," she whispered. Her trust of even thepeople who we thought were our allies was at an all-time low. (Amazon) "I was afraid you'd figure out she was involved," I sighed.We were talking about Katrina. Pamela had deduced that Katrina had set me andAya up to be kidnapped. Among the Amazons, only Pamela's mind was equallytwisted enough to have figured it out. "I will figure out how to handle things," I said in English. "Weshould both be worried about what Grandpa is going to do when he figures it outas well. He's not going to be happy with anyone killing me but him." "I had thought of that," she gave me a Reaper's smile. It chilled meto my core. "I approve of what happened," I stressed. "I didn't know. And ifI had, I would have never been a party to any of this. It has happened and I'lldeal with this." "I know. That's why a certain someone hasn't killed me, or stoppedbreathing," Pamela patted my thigh gently. "Stop taking suchrisks." "You would not have believed the size of those waves," I altered thecourse of our conversation. "I swear some of those were over twenty-fivefeet high." "Humph." "Aya went flying." "Humph." "She never let go of our medical supplies. She was a real trooper." "Tell her that," Pamela said after a deep breath. "She worshipsthe ground you walk on. I believe her faith is not misplaced." "Next time we are taking swimsuits and boogie boards."
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Wrapping up loose ends and moving forward.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
Love is like acrossbow quiver. You only have so many bolts to shoot before it runs out "With your luck you'll get those, then end up in the Artic," shescoffed. "Not the Antarctic? I've got a soft spot in my dreams for penguins." "Nope. You get to be chased by polar bears," she nudged me. I nudgedher back playfully. She gave me a Charlie horse. "Ow!" I yipped. The two SD chicks from the front of the plane lookedback our way. I didn't care about their misconceptions. My muscles needed someself-massages. "I was pretty scared," I whispered to Pamela. "Good for you. You were also pretty lucky and I'm sure pretty pissed withyour 'Albanian' attackers," she replied quietly. "I missed youtoo." I liked the way she read my mind about that. I would have liked it some more ifI hadn't glanced to my other side, then fallen straight to sleep. {1 pm, Monday, August 25th ~ 14 Days to go} On Tuesday night, Aya got one of her wishes fulfilled ~ sorta. I slept inCaitlyn Ruger's bed and I wasn't alone. The Sandman had dropped a Scottish sandtrap sized load of sand on me and there was more than enough spillover toflatten little Aya too. Because I lived among Amazons, Caitlyn woke me up at5:45 in the A M and only so much lollygagging was allowed. Aya got to sleep for fifteen whole minutes more than I did. She hugged me andkissed my cheek (which amused her three Fatal Squirt compatriots to no end)while I stuffed away my breakfast. Desiree showed up to take me to work minuteslater. While Aya showed off her battle scar to the pre-caste Amazons and herAunt D. (they had not been awake when we showed up the previous evening), I waschided for being late for weapons practice.
There was a long pause. Pamela took another long breath then an impish grincame to her lips.
Yes. Life and deathbattle successes meant nothing to the Amazons. If you had a spare moment youhad better be training, or working out your mind and/or body. We had no'weekends', though we did get an quarter day off in celebration for thereligious festivals based on the sacred days of the various matron Goddesses. Afull day off didn't happen. 7:00 AM saw me with the intern group, just as ifnothing had happened to change our relationship over the past two months. Oh,we were different. They teased me about my sunburn and wanted to see my latestscars. I couldn't work with Buffy anymore, since I was her spiritual leader.Due to my 'high risk' status, Desiree was the only other Amazon Katrina trustedme with, so I got to get beaten at her hands for the last three days of theweek. To be fair, I teased Desiree incessantly. I madeher smile when she thought I was doubled over in pain on multiple occasions.Beyond that seven-to-five schedule, I exercised after work until six and thenmanaged to bike home in a manner that avoided the paparazzi. I was easy to track outside of the building bythe members of the press (who thought I was still somehow newsworthy) anddespite my persistent desire to not talk to any of them. Felix had 'vanished',so I was the only man left. What had happened to him? Katrina allowed me totake a glance. He was at an Epona Wyoming freehold training for the Great Huntand reveling in his 'lone man in a household of twenty-two single women'status. Unlike the three other members of our 'firstclass', Felix got to choose his re-location location and communicated with medaily because he wanted us to create a battle plan for the upcoming Hunt. Itwas official; it was going to be a two man vs. thirty Amazons affair and therewas no rule that we couldn't work together though only two Amazons could win bycapturing us and holding onto us until sunset on Sunday, September 14th. No one except Krasimira, the Keeper of Records,knew what terrain we would be hunted on so we could expect anything from swampsto mountain ranges. The Amazons were in the same boat. Already the House headshad volunteered one member for the Hunt. The ancestors would be consulted forthe half who would actually participate. Krasimira had also added her owntwists. House Ishara couldn't compete becausetechnically, I was already their participant. With 52 houses halved, thatequaled 26. The final four? Runners. If a runner won, the Keeper would consultthe ancestors to see which house they would automatically be inducted into.Eight runners were nominated by the department heads and four of those would bechosen by the Augurs as well. In a normal organization it would have been thoughtthat Krasimira was abusing her station since there was no High Priestess tooppose her decisions. Not in the Amazons. No. She consulted the Augurs and theAugurs worked the will of the Ancestors and that was that. No Augur would lieabout the sacred communications imparted to them. That was inconceivablesacrilege. What that did mean was that at sunset onThursday, September 11th, Felix and I would be inserted with a knife, map andclothing into the hunting zone. When the sun rose on Friday morning, the thirtyAmazons would be put into the zone. No Amazon could attack another unless they,or their targets, 'possessed' a man. They could team up but only two could win.It was promising to be a great 'get to know your buddies at work' momentfor all of us, What was Felix getting out of this besides his freedom? (His freedom was nolonger in danger. House Epona would protect him.) No, for Felix, if he survivedfree until the sun set on Sunday, he would become a Runner. If he lost, hewould have to spend another year as an intern. This convinced me that Felix wastotally dedicated to avoiding capture. I was good with that. Meanwhile for me, it was Brooke Wednesday night, Oneida on Thursday and Timothyand Odette going clubbing with me on Friday night. Saturday was my first HouseIshara group activity. We gathered in the early morning at Doebridge, me with ahangover and Buffy giving me crap at every opportunity. Fortunately the rest ofmy 'sisters' treated me with a great deal more reverence. Now they all knew about my Summer Camp role, Romania and my kidnapping. Even intheir 'man-hating' ideology, I was the exception to the rule ~ I was reliable,dedicated, smart, lethal and worthy of their trust and respect. On the councilfront, Buffy hinted to me that there was a way around the deadlock for whowould be foisted onto the Regency Triumvirate, but she refused to tell me whatit was. That was a cause for concern. Sunday, I worked with JIKIT, did some Amazon diplomatic stuff and discoveredDesiree was my new bodyguard. Katrina thought a full SD team would becumbersome and my best bet was to remain unconventional and mobile. I agreedbecause it allowed me to play the field a little more. Speaking of playing thefield, This bright Monday afternoon, I was standing in a hangar at StewartInternational Airport waiting on my fianc Now he was playing the role of goodwill ambassador, encouraging the TibetanDiaspora to spend a few months to a year back in their homeland to help rebuildand teach. He also was rallying support for Tibetan recognition and financialsupport. Already the UN had voted to send a small international group toestablish border security against both the Khanate and the PRC. With the PRC treaty-obliged by the ceasefire to not oppose Tibetan freedom, theUN acted rapidly. TheUN Tibet Force(UNTFOR)combatelementsconsisted of the UK (+ Gurkha), Chilean, French (+ FrenchForeign Legion), Germany, India, Italy, Romania, Spanish and Thailand eachsending one battalion each. Algeria, Denmark, Chile, the Netherlands, Bulgaria,Canada, Cameroon, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Brazil agreed to make smallercontributions. The USAF would supply a serious level of logistics support forthe mission. The UN also created theUN Tibetan Training Force(UNTTFOR)which provided a structure for giving access by Tibetan forces to German,Italian, Chilean and Romanian bases to train to E U standards over a five monthperiod. The Khanate provided gobs of captured Chinese hardware to the creationof a tiny Tibetan Armed Forces, easing worries about adequately equipping thetroops once they were trained. The Dali Lama was simultaneously arriving at JFK to public fanfare in order tothank the UN personally on behalf of the nation he loved. Hana was able tofinally shed the limelight and was coming into a secure National Guard facilityto finally take a step back to a 'normal' lifestyle. The last bit of oddity:the hangars used by the Marine Aerial Refueler Transport Squadron 452 of theMarine Corps Reserve was courtesy of JIKIT. No press was allowed, or expected. It was an odd grouping of us. Jormo Sulkanen (Hana's father), his chauffeur andHana's daughter Sten was being a total jerk, which may have been due to me calling him Philipwhen we first met. Philip wasn't 'ethnic' enough for him, so he never used it.Because he hated it, Brennan (Hana's deceased step-brother) had used itconstantly. I had overheard it and thus screwed up our first meeting. ButSten's current blistering hatred had two positive side effects: Jormo came overand stood by me, a suggestion of solidarity I hadn't expected, and since wewere standing next to each other, we finally began the dialog that we needed ifHana was going to be family to both of us. We chatted about the thing that mattered most ~ Hana. He asked me if I hadreally hired a team of assassins to protect her, so I told him a little bitabout the Ghost Tigers. He talked about how proud she was to be bringing peaceto a suffering planet and I agreed that she looked spectacular doing so. Some things remained the same; I had set in motion the death of his youngestson who had paraded a raped lady in front of me. A bunch of other dilettanteshad perished as well. Balancing that was the joy I brought to the child closestto his heart, his adopted daughter Hana. I also had proved to be my own brandof eccentric knight in tarnished armor. I meant well, and in Jormo's book thatmeant something. He also told me he would strangle me with my own intestines if I broke herheart. I looked him straight in the face and asked him how he felt about openmarriages. He hit me. To be fair, I let him hit me. He didn't try to do me seriousharm. "Don't be an asshole," he grumbled. "I'm not sure I know how?" I shrugged. I got another hard stare. "She loves you," he said with surprising tenderness. "I would rather face that typhoon again than break her heart. The thoughtof that scares me because I've never been all that good at romance," Iconfessed. "That wasn't what I expected you to say," he harrumphed. "Irecall those two ladies I first saw you with. Libra Chalmers and," "Brooke Lee," I said. "Yes, her. Are you staying loyal?" "She has never asked more than she thinks my current level of maturity canhope to achieve." He looked at me. "I'm discrete and mindful of hersensitivities." "You aren't trying to befriend me," he noted. "I don't feel it is right to expect you to like me. I think we both knowI'm supposed to be nice to you and you aren't going punch me again. I believeHana would see thru any deception on our part." I paused. "I wouldn't mind us getting along. I'll try not to piss you offbecause that would be rude to you and cruel to her," I continued."I'll never ask you to forgive me and I'll never feel like what I did wasinherently unjustified. I am sorry that I caused you pain because I think youare a hard, courageous man, and she loves you." "That's her plane," he stated. "Thank God," I muttered. And thank you Ishara. I was starting toblather. We remained thankfully silent until the plane had pulled into thehangar and the people started to deplane. The first out was a young woman withdark blonde hair and hunters glasses. No one else appeared until she had reached the bottom of the stairs andcontinued to look about for a moment. Hana came next, smiling at me, then hereyes were following Jormo as he moved to the car to retrieve little I imagined the girl was his apprentice and he was the prime assassin. That washow the Ghost Tigers operated. They were doing me a deep personal favor byputting aside their normal role as hunters to take up body-guarding duties.According to Addison, they had also managed to get their fair share of killingpeople of various persuasions. Not only had the Seven Pillars tried to take herout more than once, Chinese Intelligence and some criminal cartels had taken anactive interest in her too. The young woman scanned from me to Desiree, then to Sten. She had a good eyefor threat assessment. Jormo was partially concealed, but would rather die thanput Hana at risk. I was the ally of the 9 Clans, and she probably thought shecould take me in a quick-draw contest. Desiree? She left Desiree for her mentorto worry about. "Ms. Sulkanen?" Sten's closer minion walked her way. The bodyguardsgot in the way instinctively. The man reached into his coat and nearly died.The women did a palm strike to his windpipe then grabbed his tie, yanking himto the hard concrete floor of the hangar. (Russian) "He has a piece of paper," she stated in a detached manner "Sten, what is the meaning of this?" Hana worried. I moved toward thewoman. (Russian) "I am Cáel Nyilas. Let me help." She did more than that. She retreated from the downed man and put her bodybetween Hana and Sten. I was schooled enough now to realize that was the deception. I hadn't seen theolder man draw a gun but I knew he now had one out. It was down by his side andhe was using his body to shield it from view. "Are these the kind of people you want around our daughter," Stenasked haughtily. I had an inkling suspicion. I wasn't alone. Desiree pushed past me and attended to the downed man. She had him standing,patted him on the back and frisked all inside ten seconds. "He's a process server," she commented to the group. "What he is here to do is serve you with papers, Hana," Sten grewangrier. "You are an unfit mother and have developed an unsafe environmentfor her to grow up in." "What?" Hana growled. "You don't like the fact that I'vefinallymovedon and found someone new. You don't care a damn thing about our daughter." "We will let a judge decide that. Right now I have an order of detentionfor "Ms. Sulkanen," the second of Sten's minions step forward morecautiously, "the Family Court in the State of New York has," I laughed. "Oh," Desiree looked my way then shared a sliver of a smile with me. "There is nothing laughable, I assure you," the lawyer snapped. "Really, what's your name?" I asked. "Mr. Dornier, not that," "Where are we?" "What does that matter?" then, "New York State." "Incorrect Dornier. You are on a Marine Corps base, dumbass. Look aroundyou," I smirked. "So? What does that mean?" Sten harangued us. "This is federal property," I explained as I strode toward his car. "Hey, what are you doing, I'm talking to you," Sten pursued me. "Excuse me," I grinned. I flipped out my Amazon Honor Blade andslashed one of his tires. "What?" "Go for it," Hana simmered. "Touch Cáel and he will defendhimself." "He has a knife," he countered. He didn't touch me. A second tirebegan to deflate. "That's assault with a deadly weapon." "It would be if he turned to face you, or anyone else," Desiree hadher 'bored ~ don't press me' voice. "Right now he's being a vandal."She put her hand on the process server's shoulder and shoved him back towardSten and Dornier. "You should know your jurisdictions, asshole," shetold him. "Hana, I will drive back with Cáel," Libra announced loudly. That wasa cue for Hana to shoot me an apologetic look, which was odd, considering thateven knowing me was putting her child custody at risk. It took me a second torealize what a bastard Sten could be. I also doubted he had three spare tires.I left one untouched as I headed for my car. "Hana, I'll catch up with you after you talk with your lawyers," Icalled out. It was infuriating for me that this was her reception home. Stenhad better be thanking his lucky stars we weren't alone or I would havepummeled his ass, and given him the nuclear wedgy of all times, jackalope. "Let's go home," Libra tapped my arm. Desiree was watching Jormo'slimo speed away. She didn't dawdle. The Marines would want their hangar backASAP. We'd let them decide if they wanted to help Sten, or not. Desiree tossedme the keys. That was her way of telling me I need to blow of some steam, andnot by getting frolic-ee with Libra on the hour long commute home.
{11 pm, Monday, August25th ~ 14 Days to go} {Late that night with Hana} "So, who was the guy who gave you this?" I looked over at Hana whilerunning my hand over the silk scarf some lama in Lhasa had given her to give tome ~ a 'Thank You' gift for the liberation of his homeland and the aid packageheading his peoples' way. "I never got his name, but my translator said he had traveled for threedays straight to be there for the celebration," she smiled warmly. I picked up my second gift and began to play with it. The object was afascinating toy, all the more so because it was more than a child's plaything.It was a simple prayer wheel. I put the handle between my two palms and rubbedthem back and forth, causing the two balls to beat against the drum heads. "I think you find that thing more interesting than you do me," Hanapouted. "Oh no you don't," I pounced on her. With one hand I tickled herwhile I placed my Tibetan gift aside. I didn't want us rolling over on it as wefrolicked naked on her queen-sized bed. "You were a happy little camperten minutes ago and you certainly drove your vigor home with this grandLothario." "Eek!" she playfully tried to bat my hand aside. She began gigglinghysterically. Even when I pulled away so that she could breathe, she kept snickering. "What?" I worried. I had been ramping us up for a second round ofsex. Round one had been 'comfort' sex, helping her compartmentalize herfeelings for that bastard of an ex-husband and the threat he posed to her custodianshipof her daughter, Those were emotions she'd deal with later. Fretting about them tonight, herfirst night back in the States, was counter-productive. She knew that, whichwas why she'd accepted my dinner invitation. We had now been seen in publictogether for the first time since she became famous; afterwards we had traveledback to her place. How serious was I about cheering her up? I'd brought a sparesuit, biking clothes and my bike. I was planning to spend the night and make myway to work my usual way come sunrise. "I," she gasped, "asked Libra how you "compared" inher experience, which seems to be extensive, as a lover on the way over. Andafter several, very long, I must say, seconds of introspection, she told me youwere indescribable and incomparable. I've been trying to put my thoughtstogether since Rome and, why are you scowling?" "That was rude of you two," I now play-pouted. "I like to thinkI'm 'thunderous', though 'stunning' will do in a pinch." Hana helpfully pinched me. "Ow!" I squalled. And back to tickling Iwent. I quickly showed her my 'sheet-fu' was superior to hers, whichmeant I tangled her up in her sheets before she realized she was helplessbefore me. Or so I bragged. Hana played helpless well. "Oh please, Mr. World-Conquering Wombat," she pleaded. Wombat? "Wombat?" I questioned her. "How have I become an irasciblefurry marsupial?" "Well Honey, you need a shave," she teased me. "You are a littlefurry." "Romantically that is called a five o'clock shadow," I protested. "It scratches my thighs," she murmured. I had a remedy for that. Sliding down to her hip, I turned my palms toward me,interlaced my fingers and positioned my thumbs pointing up. My chin rested onmy fingers and the thumbs covered the sides, so when I stuck my tongue into thethree-sided void created, my hands, but none of my scruffiness, touched herintimate flesh. Once I had this technique in place, I rolled over her thigh andgot to work. "I find," she gasped, "that you have the answer to thatconundrum down pat. It makes me, ah, think I'm not your, ah, first girl."My dedication to my erotic task (and the carnal reward that waited) kept mefrom responding. Besides, my upper lip was busy rolling back and forth over herclitoris. There I let the bristles of my oncoming moustache teasingly tickleher. I was pleased when the pleasure I caused quieted her and she settled downto running her fingers across my crown as she ramped herself up toward aclimax. 'Not my first girl' indeed. Forty-five minutes later, I was coming back to her room from the kitchen with aglass of tomato juice for her and rice wine for me (she was out of beer). Iheard a noise from She was another delicate female issue in my life. I had made her existenceharder by just being me. Hana let me know that nothing 'bad' had better happento her ex-husband, Sten. I couldn't beat him up, threaten him, or sic any of myAmazons on him. Stupidly, I had asked if using the CIA was okay. She'd bannedall of JIKIT intervening as well, negating the use of the best pest removalpeople on the planet, the 9 Clans. "You are going to have to get used to children making sounds while theysleep," Hana surprised me. "You'll learn to tell the dreams from thenightmare." "In spades, I'm going to have to learn that in spades," I nodded.
{4 pm, Tuesday, August26th ~ 13 Days to go} My schedule had remained steady. I had firearms practice at 6 am every morning,was in Katrina's office by 7 and working my cue by 7:15. According to myregular morning briefings, I continued to be a menace to the foundations offreedom, civilization and the terrestrial biosphere. It was wonderful to standthere side by side with my fellow New Hires. At lunch, around 11 o'clock, I had a brief get together with the other membersof the Amazon diplomatic corps since I was still Chief Diplomat of the Host ~we were a small unit. Daphne, who now worked with JIKIT, would give me a briefbriefing on what the 'office' was up to in my name. I gladly kept my distancefrom their regularly scheduled mayhem. The truce in China didn't stop theSecret War from raging on and on. My three o'clock knife training with Pamela was slowly evolving into a greaterstudy of human fighting philosophy and anatomy. I still studied the techniquesof a larger single bladed hunting knife as well as the hilt-less, double bladedAmazon Honor Blade. Pamela promised me she'd start teaching me how to do the'long-distance' and 'short'/snap throw for the blades. She made it look soeasy. Pamela also began educating me on the basics and basis of the Amazon personalhand-to-hand fighting style. The eight points of emphasis in Amazon combatwere: the finger, fist, elbow, shoulder, foot, heel, knee and hip. Itencouraged channeling both your energies and the energy of your opponents by usingfluid blows and throws. It also worked well with the close-in knife fightingPamela was teaching me. Working with her once more did her as much good as me.We had come to feed off one another's moods, which was a good thing. Tuesday, walking to the elevator at the end of the session, the door opened toreveal Rachel talking to an SD chick I barely knew, Meridian. "Oh, it is great to see you, Rachel," I enthusiastically stated. Herhesitation as she replied worried me. "It is great to see you too, Cael Wakko Ishara," she respondedsoftly, compassionately. "Ladies, can you spare Rachel and I some private time," I askedMeridian and Pamela. "Come on," Pamela addressed the SD Amazon, "we have tons ofnothing to talk about." "As you wish, Ishara," Meridian answered. She looked to Rachel. Shestepped off the elevator as Pamela stepped on. Away they went. "I heard you were back in New York," I told her. "I heard you were off of JIKIT for the time being." "I was running on fumes psychologically and my body wasn't too muchbetter. Javiera gave me a week off. I go back Thursday." "That was the right move, Cáel," she said. "You've been stucksweating both the small stuff and being caught up in the big picture. That is ahumongous burden to bear for someone with your training and background." "I know, I'm not ready for where my life has taken me." "No one is, Cáel. You have training that has let you get this far whenmost of us would be lost. You carry that weight, plus you've had to work thephysical side of the equation. I get to focus on you. You've had to focus onall of us." Rachel was being both honest and kind. I felt a sudden renewed kinship with myprimary guardian. "Thanks for that, Rachel, can I tell you a secret? Something you can'ttell another soul. Something I've never told another living person?" Icould tell Rachel. I couldn't tell Katrina because she was so close to Hayden.Pamela, Pamela had already prepared herself for a miserable afterlife andwouldn't have connected with my pain for another. Since she was my 'sister' in Ishara, I couldn't really confide in Buffy, butonly an Amazon would understand my thoughts on the matter. It had to be Rachel. "I cannot betray the Host, but you know that. What is it you wish toshare?" "Hayden lived life as an Anahit, yet lives forever in the Halls of theIsharans." Since that was now well known, Rachel knew that couldn't be thesecret. "When I was trying to induct her, Dot Ishara refused her entry. I thoughtshe was challenging me and I was right." "I recall that she wouldn't accept Hayden, even though her death wasrighteous in the name of the Host. Has no one ever asked you what changedIshara's mind? Not Buffy, or Helena?" "Neither one ever asked. I think it was because they sensed I didn't wantto talk about it, nor insult them by not opening up. Ishara refused Haydenbecause of me. I was refusing to accept my place in the Host. I kept playing,pretending, I was not really one of you. I kept thinking I could divorce myselffrom the evil we did because I was special." "But you weren't special in the way I think you are using the word,"she nodded. "You were chosen by the Ancestors to be one of us, man, ornot." "Yeah. I stupidly put my life on the line because I wanted to be the 'goodguy'. I've always wanted to be the 'good guy', even when I hurt people. I'dtell the girl it was my fault, yet I excused that behavior by thinking that Ihadn't meant to hurt anyone, so I was okay. I have never blamed myself for anyof the shit I caused." "That has always been a rather annoying quality of yours," she noted. "When I was on the roof of Havenstone, daring Ishara with my life on theline, that's when I felt it. I owed and owned my Amazon heritage in thatmoment. I finally blamed myself for something, for not accepting sacrificeswere being made for me and I was dishonoring every one of you by denying theirpurpose." "You are Ishara," Rachel stated firmly. That was her entire argument. "I had to believe that. I had to believe I was nothing more than oneAmazon in a long line of Amazons dating back to that first night of betrayal. Ihad to realize I was one of many, not someone special, with special rules. Iwasn't getting to be the good guy, or even the bad guy. I was just, an Amazon.One more Ishara among the hundreds that stood in my place." "And it tookthat momentfor you to realize what mostAmazons know from the age of five," Rachel stroked my cheek. "It iseasy for us to forget your bravery comes from a place that is uniquely you andyou didn't grow up around the fires with tales of our mothers, grandmothers andall those who have come before. We see our honor is gold and sing the songs inthe First Tongue. We live as Amazons." "I wanted you to know because," I faltered at the last memory. "Charlotte. You want to make peace with me about Charlotte," shetouched my cheek yet again. "Cáel, I told her mother and daughter abouthow she died. They want to meet Vincent when he is feeling better. They want totalk to you. They worry about you not understanding that Charlotte lives andwill live on until the Sun dies and the stars burn out." "Charlotte was in the Warband that killed Ajax the Unconquered, Cáel. Shefell on that ridge, looking down on Ishara's triumph over Ajax and her spirittook the news of that victory to the next life. She is a welcome exemplar toHouse Ska Ska "She did much more than die, Cáel. She killed men so that when youfinished with Ajax, none of them, left on that field, could avenge him,"she added. "I hadn't looked at it that way," I confessed. "I'd like to meether family. You said she has a daughter. I didn't know." "You didn't need the distraction. We all knew you would have only doneincredibly stupid things trying to keep us alive. If it helps, she is five andcried freely, deeply and long. Her mother is fifty-two and runs a freehold inSaskatchewan. She'll be around for a long time, trust me." Charlotte's mother had to be one tough D O B (daughter of a bitch) to seesixty. I did know she was the second of five daughters, with the middle onebeing in the Ska "I am doing something for, well, for me, but for Charlotte too. Sakuniyasis leading seventeen House Isharans and two ladies from MI-6 in WestAfrica." "I'd heard about that," she smiled. "Charlotte's Fist." Four(the core of any war band) was a sacred number to the Amazons, as was five (thenumber of digits) so twenty was a classic warrior unit. It was also the numberof the original houses. Normally these groups were referred to by theirleader's name, but I wanted the Condotteiri to know they'd killed the wrongAmazon and Sakuniyas agreed to the naming convention. The Condos had sent Ajax to Hungary and Romania to kill me. Charlotte had diedstopping them, but this was not a matter of revenge. This honored her and was arequest for her to watch over those who sought inspiration from her when theywent into battle. West-Central Africa was one of the three Amazon Homeland(Eastern Europe and Southern India being the other two) and was where the warwas heating up. JIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce) became involved when theCondos and Coils of the Serpent (one of the 9 Assassin Clans) began killinglocal civilian and military leaders. The Condos did it to spread chaos for themto use as a smoke screen behind which they could hide the large numbers ofmercenaries in the area hunting down the Amazons. The Coils attacked anyofficial that was on the Condo's payroll. As the body count began to rise, the US and UK began having 'normal' covertagencies investigate the killings, yet they remained blind to the reasonsbehind the actions. It wasn't until a whole Condo 'training camp' ended upbeing extinguished that they realized there was a third player in the game (asopposed to the governments and the rogue mercenaries). The Coils of the Serpent were one step ahead of the intelligence agencies. Andthat allowed the Amazons to hunt down the Condos. We in JIKIT had estimated itwas roughly 15,000 Condotteiri foot soldiers (consisting of mercs, local paramilitariesand the occasional regular army commander) versus the roughly 3000 Amazons and1000 members of the 9 Clans. The Golden Mare was asking for Havenstone and theFreeholds in North and South America to raise up 'fists' to join the strugglein Africa. In Belize they would be trained for two months to ten weeks injungle warfare before heading over. "Are your people going to be ready?" Rachel inquired. "We have done well in Japan," I replied. "The former 'Runners'actually do better moving through urbanized society than their Old SchoolAmazon sisters." "I heard they are more prone to taking orders from the Ninja," shelooked me in the eyes. "I told them to. This is the Ninja's war and we serve them best by doingwhat we do best ~ taking the fight to the Seven Pillars when they exposethemselves," I clarified. "And you got me off talking aboutCharlotte," I realized a second later. "A long period of mourning is not our way, Cáel," she confided."You were our friend, but you were our mission first and foremost. Thathasn't changed." "Are you going to," I began to say 'remain my bodyguard'. "Yes. I have a dozen House Guard members expressing a desire to join theSecurity Detail and be our new electronics expert. Eight of those I'm givingserious consideration to." "The other four?" I asked. "Three are too young and are too interested in you for my taste. One istoo old and a rather odd individual." "I like odd." "I will reconsider her then," she allowed. "Are you saying that to make me happy?" "No," Rachel grinned. "I admire your instincts. Do you know howsoon you will be needing us?" "I'm going to stay in town until the Great Hunt. After my stupendousvictory, I'll see if I can get to Brazil, so mid-September." "It will take longer to integrate a member ~ the last week ofNovember," she bargained. I really wasn't in the mood to argue. I was toomuch the boy who was glad to see his primary guardian standing before him.Pamela was by far the most loving and lethal one of the pack. Rachel was myrock. She kept me alive and I helped give her something to live for, even if itwas a flawed 'me'. "And Wakko, you don't need to give me a piece of your soul to replaceCharlotte. What is hers is hers and what is ours is ours. I'll always miss herand I'm okay with that. She was a good friend and a proud compatriot and Iloved her. I never had any sisters of the flesh. Mona, Tiger Lily and Charlottehave been the only real family I've had. I will find another sister and I cannow accept that." "Is it alright if I still miss her?" I pondered. "Of course, Ishara. Will you still be capable of taking my orders whenrequired?" "Yes. If I started ignoring your advice, I wouldn't have been worthy ofleading someone like Charlotte into battle. I can honor her by letting you doyour job." "Thank you. I still worry about you trying to save everyone, but now I'llworry a little less," she confessed. "I still plan to do crazy stuff, hey, do you have a daughter?" "No." "Want one?" "I'm in the final drawing of lots for the Great Hunt," she smiledonce more. "You could just ask." "My way is more fun. This way I'll be sure you'll obey," she let hereyes sparkle with a mirthful fire. "Don't think I'll go easy on you. I plan to win," I pledged. "Of course not. Why would you change now?" "I'd rather you bust my balls than mock me?" I pouted. "Insteadof spending a moving moment, you are cheering me up." "It is my job to look after you, even now," she stroked my neckaffectionately. "Especially now," I added as I hit the elevator button. "Let's catch up with the others. I need to tell Meridian that she's backin the running." "Oh, thatisfortunate," I grinned. "Oh, we'llstart our mission to Brazil on Thursday, February 12th." "Is there a significance of that date?" I laughed. I put an arm around her shoulder as the doors opened. There were twoothers Havenstone ladies onboard. "Carnival in Rio de Janeiro!" I exulted. "Half a milliontourists a day. Two million Brazilians. Everyone wears a mask. What's not to love?" "You aresofortunate you waited until you had witnessesaround," Rachel groused.
"Desiree says it'sbad for my prestige to be beaten in public," I chortled. "I'm gladyou agree." "Maybe we can spar on the mats today when you get off work?" "Oh, I'd like to see that," one of the other Amazons remarked."Weapons or hand-to-hand?" "I'll let him use a weapon. I'll use my hands. I want him to think he hasa chance," Rachel declared. My arm was still around her shoulder, so Iknew she wasn't really pissed. "Didn't you kill Ajax?" the other one noted. "He tripped over his shoelaces and impaled himself on his own sword,"I sighed dramatically. Since the two women looked at one another, then to Rachel, I knew I'd told thelie well. "Cáel had an ally shoot a grenade overhead, Ajax died in the confusion, sowhatever blow killed him is irrelevant. Cáel beat Ajax with his mind before asingle blow was landed. He made his foe fight his battle and that was how WakkoIshara won," Rachel responded. "Like an Amazon," the first one nodded. "With balls," I added. "An Amazon with balls? I guess you are, but I don't think the testesmattered in that you beat our foe in a matter your ancestors can be proudof," the second one said. "Well said," Rachel nodded. "Thank you," I shook her hand. "I'm Cáel Wakko Ishara akaNyilas." "Oh, I'm Wynona of Allatu," she answered. She shook my hand, I ran afinger over her pulse and got her to blush slightly. Allatu was the Goddess ofthe Underworld in Canaanite mythology and one of the First Houses. "Behave," Rachel whispered. "Not likely," I whispered back. "Did I say something wrong?" Wynona worried. "No. Rachel is my moral guardian. So, do you want to go fishing, I meanswimming tomorrow after work, say 5:15?" I inquired. "Sure," her smile broadened. "I excel in the water." "Good, maybe you can teach me a thing or two," I answered. The dooropened at the lobby and there stood Desiree. "Here," Rachel shoved me out the door. "Take him before hefishes himself into more trouble." "I understand," Desiree grumbled. "Come on fisherman. FinancialInvestigations is working late tonight and we need to pick up Italian food fortwenty-two." "Lead and I shall follow," I proclaimed. "Why do you call him the 'Fisherman'," Wynona asked Rachel. "Fish, barrel, I'll explain it to you on the way to the garage,"Rachel sighed. The doors shut and off we all went. {7:10 pm, Wednesday, August 27th ~ 12 Days to go} "Will you still be having dinner with us once you return back toJIKIT?" Europa asked as Lorraine passed me some Cajun rice. "Every Monday and Wednesday night and on Fridays early," I grinned. "We are going to be spending some time in Doebridge over the Labor Dayweekend," Europa griped. "Do you want to come with us and save Ayafrom retelling her ordeal to yet another band of pre-Amazons?" "Aya, do you want me to run interference for you?" I asked. "No," she smiled. "I want you to train for the Great Hunt. AuntKatrina says Elsa is virtually a guarantee to be one of the thirty." "Ugh," I groaned. "That's the cherry on the top of a ratherbizarre day." "Was today bad?" Loraine asked. "Let me see, for starters I got to use a variety of weird weapons forfirearms practice. I had a feeling I was part of a round-robin, the way theyrotated their assistance to me. In the elevator, I was with Brielle and herbuddy when we had a security drill. The elevator cut off, but the air handlerwent into overdrive, dropping the temperature. After a quick democratic vote, Ilost my shirt to an impromptu fire to stay warm, alive," I chuckled."Then we cuddled together for warmth. I was about to lose my undershirtand pants when the alert ended." "Security alerts last less than fifteen minutes," Caitlyn noted."I doubt you were in any danger of freezing to death." "Brielle was under the impression security alerts could last hours,despite my questionable knowledge otherwise from the handbook I'd read. Sinceshe had the seniority, I thought she knew better." "So now you are shirtless," Europe smirked. "I had a spare shirt stashed in Katrina's office, but I was required tochange during the meeting because we were running late. Oh, and yesterday Iforgot to feed some genetically superior white rats at one of our labs.Apparently they gnawed through their cages, broke out and now are in theManhattan underworld, plotting a rodent rebellion," I related. "Oh, that was my idea," Loraine perked up. "Do you sit around the table with Katrina thinking up this kind ofcrap!" I protested. "Occasionally," Caitlyn admitted. "Most of those are pureKatrina though." "Glad to know my misery is a family bonding experience." "You should be glad to know we care about you," Europa beamed. "Yeah, I'll remember that and once you are casted I'm going to absolutelyabuse my authority in some serious payback," I faux-glared at her. "I promise you we will make it fun," Aya pledged. "You would betray your own sisters?" Caitlyn questioned. "Sisters are sisters, Mother, but boon companions are for life," Ayacountered. "That's cool, Mom," Europa snorted. "We'll always be taller thanAya, and faster." "Only more proof she'll be smarter," Caitlyn shook her head. "SoCáel what happened next?" "What makes you think the rest of my day wasn't mundane and boring?" "According to Katrina, you are the best stress reliever at Havenstonesince they put in the Jacuzzis. With it being open season on you today, Ifigured your day was one misadventure after another," Caitlyn smiledwarmly. "Fine, I had to go to Financial Investigations to discuss my expenseaccount in Europe." "That doesn't sound all that exciting," Loraine said. "We were in the pool swimming in the classic Amazon style, I swear,sometime I think I should go to work wearing nothing but a trench coat and asmile," I grouched. "Did you make any babies?" Aya chirped. "No, I can't have that kind of fun with any employees for another twelvemore days. Anyway, they were quite cross with me not using their services andlet me know for an hour and, thirty-six minutes. After that I had to get areference physical." "You are as healthy as a horse," Europa neighed. "Funny Epona," I sniffed indignantly. "You are a load of laughs,filly. After I had been turned into a prune they made me undress again. Therewas some nonsense about all the combat I had been in had made me shorter andgiven me muscle constriction." "That is a good one," Aya nodded. "I'm glad they were being ascreative as you are, Atta." "Who is to say that I'm not being the creative one here?" I winked ather. "Were your muscles 'constricted'?" Loraine snickered. Europa gave hera thumbs up for joining on the fun. "Nope, all my reflexes are in working order and I can still salute ondemand," I smiled. "Which was good because after that, I workedthrough lunch with Acquisitions discussing Khanate plans for Siberia."There was a pause. "What was so horrid about that?" Loraine inquired, as if I had beentortured up until that point. "We had to do the whole three hour routine on the practice mats. I was pinnedgrappled and I had something that was strangely reminiscent of a titty-snuggle.I mean, all that skin-tight clothing, close contact and sweaty bodies wasmurder on my concentration," I confessed. "We aren't going to be investing in Siberia, are we?" Aya winked atme. "I don't know. I spent three hours saying "I don't know" and"I haven't a clue." "You are good at that," Europa jibed. I flicked a pea at her,bouncing it off her chin. She was getting ready for a spaghetti & meatballcounterattack when Caitlyn's cough brought her up short. "He is the Head of House Ishara. He can act that way. You are Epona and weare better behaved." Europa stuck her tongue at me, I returned the gesture and this time Caitlyn'scough was aimed at me. She followed that up by rubbing her foot along my shin.I smiled at her, then caught Aya smiling at the both of us. Then I recalled Ayahad set the table, damn it. "I'll get us dessert," Aya beamed happiness my way. I was thinkingabout dessert alright, damn that girl. "I'm home gang," I exhaled. "Ready to go out?" and waspromptly shot with a Nerf gun. "What did I do this time?" Timothy and Odette were getting off the sofa. Odette was taking aim whileTimothy left his single-shot where he'd been sitting. "We are going out. You are not," Timothy grinned. "You havecompany in the bedroom." "Man, I was looking forward to," then Odette shot me in the stomachwith her six shot nerf repeater. "You havecompany," Odette emphasized the 'company' part.To me this implied someone who I couldn't seduce with a few words, maybe getbusy for half an hour then go out partying. That could only mean, I opened my door and there lay Rhada, completely naked, hogtied and bound. Shehad even been gagged. Her look of hate and loathing turned to, something else;part fear and part heartsick yearning. Could Timothy and Odette, really justTimothy, I loved Odette but she had the combat skills of a Tribble. CouldTimothy defeat Rhada so thoroughly that she could be so bound? Not likely. I'd been neglecting her, What with being kidnapped, running off toEurope and generally doing my job, I'd neglected her well-defined physique,olive skin and athletic curves. I'd been a fool for letting her waste awaywhile I'd been 'not' earning a paycheck. Hell, I was working too much. I'dplayed around in college and still managed to graduate with good grades, and itwasn't like I had been hired for my brains. "Oh, I've been missing this," I relished her helplessness whilerubbing my palms together. "Mumph," Rhada protested. It was hard for her to move her body. Herlegs were bound above the knee to her shins while her ankles were lashedtogether and then to the top of her thighs. Her elbows and wrists were tied behind her back, wrists to wrist. The ropessecuring her arms crisscrossed above and below her breasts and looped aroundher neck. She looked tightly secured. A bit too secured. I couldn't see how toun-hog-tie her. "Don't you dare go anywhere," I warned Rhada then backed out of the roomhurriedly. "I suggested the ass plug!" Odette smiled as I turned around. I'dmissed that given the shapeliness of her buttock, "I color-coded the ends of the ropes for you. Pull the yellow, then greenand then pink and she'll come undone just fine. I put some ointment by thebedside for after. It will help numb the burn and promotes healing withoutscarring," Timothy patted me on the shoulder. "Now that you've beentaken care of, Odette's going to be my wing-girl at the Commando." Thatwas a gay hot spot. "Sorry I'm missing out," I laughed. "I'm popular theretoo." "We'll have fun," Odette patted my cheek. "You two have funhere." "Come on girlfriend," Timothy put an arm around Odette. "Let'sgo feed you to some lesbians." "You are joking, right?" Odette feigned fearfulness. "We'll see," Timothy laughed. They left, leaving me alone with myfavorite deviant. I weighed the 'anticipation' pathway but decided Rhada hadwaited long enough. I returned to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me. "My captive looks absolutely delicious this evening," I leered. Shestruggled again, nearly choking herself with her bindings. Next she tried tobite thru her gag to no avail. I sat down on the bed beside her, trailing two fingers from her sternum down toher navel and further still, into her cunt. She was creamy, torrid, fervent andinviting. I wiggled my fingers inside, coaxing her G-spot. "Don't you dare cum," I cautioned. "Amazons climax. Slave girlsserve at the pleasure of their masters." Rhada's eyes widened and she inadvertently humped my hand. I could tell she wasready to go. I teased her clit and thumped the inside of her cunt in just theright way to make her orgasm. She tried to stifle some sobs to little effect.She was too needy and ready. I was being cruel, just the way she wanted it. "A simple fucking instruction," I teased her tear-streaked face. Timothy with, or without Odette, had laid out a paddle, riding crop and lash atthe foot of the bed for just such a time as this. I went for the riding crop,brandished it in front of Rhada's face and grinned lasciviously. "When I ride my slave, I expect her to go where I tell her," Istudied her with remote emotions. She'd been 'bad' after all, even though I'dnot left her much of a chance to be 'good'. Whack! She took a quick hit to the nipple. I rubbed her mammary with the leather headthen gave her opposite nipple the same treatment. Rhada struggled to meet thelashing, savoring the sting and orgasmically relishing the pain. Wanting tochange up my routine, I worked the crop down the sides of her ribcage,caressing her flesh, gave her stomach a good smack and then rubbed it wetbetween her legs. I had to get rid of my clothes, so I made a production of it. I stretched,showing her every scar that represented my martial vigor on me. This was thefiction that allowed me and me alone to be the one who could dominate her, ownher and trade in her haughty demeanor for her inner war captive. On that onetime when we had fought and I had been left kneeling over her, binding her withmy belt, she had created this mythology that allowed her to submit whileremaining true to her Amazon heritage. She was the warrior humbled. She was my slave and mine alone. Sure, she'd letTimothy bind her twice now, but in her mind that had all been a prelude tosubmitting to me. And here she was in the same boat again. She was watching medisrobe. Her legs were twitching in anticipation. I didn't make her wait long.With one fluid move, I sidled onto the bed, raised her right leg to the sideand plunged into her. Rhada must have felt this, because by the time I regained some of my senses shehad had her second climax. She'd been waiting a long time for this. I had towonder how many times had she brought herself close to her orgasm, only topractice self-denial. I'd ask her later. For now, her undulations and my newmindset sent me over the edge and I shot up into her, filling Rhada with myseed. Vague warnings from Ishara about renewing my House were temporarilyignored. I yanked Rhada's gag down and filled her mouth with my tongue. My lips presseddown hard on hers. It was a violent case of mouth to mouth with lives on theline. I left Rhada wanting more, her lips reaching up for me as I pulled away.I looked down her body. Her legs bindings were getting in the way of memanipulating her body the way I liked. Sure enough, there at the end of onecord was a yellow aglet. Rhada was on her stomach spread eagle on the bed. Her breathe still came inragged gasps. Sex was over. I had ravished Rhada, taken all of her holes, Ineeded to find the ass plug wherever I'd thrown it, and made her cry inpleasure repeatedly. Now was the after-care. I had already rubbed the sensation back into her armsand got the blood flowing back into her numb hands. The unguent smelled likewatermelons and caused my fingertips to tingle where I was gracefully applyingit over her burned up ass, lashes welled up and angry looking. "Ah." Rhada purred. "That feels nice." "It reduces the pain and swelling plus decreases the likelihood ofpermanent scaring," I informed her. One aspect of our relationship was thelimited skin area I could safely lash. If a sports bra and boy-shorts couldn'tcover it, the lashing had to be very light lest someone ask embarrassingquestions when she worked out sometime tomorrow. That meant her ass received agreat deal of attention. That translated into very delicate finger work for me as I poured the oilymixture on her behind without causing her more undue pain. "One day you may need to keep me," she sighed happily. "One day we won't have to hide," I mused. "We'll leaveHavenstone in the same car, go over to our apartment and play all nightlong." That was a fiction. I'd done wonders to Amazon society, mainly in the categoryof wondering what cosmic forces had converged to keep me alive in thismisandrist Hell hole. Allowing me to take one of their princesses out on a datein order to submerge her in a secret rape fantasy was as likely as me becomingthe next High Priestess. The only two that had an inkling of what we were up to either actively didn'twant to know for certain (Katrina), or had this delusion I was an ancient heroreborn and she could cure me of any dark impulses with her pure love (Oneida).Katrina was the most open-minded and adaptive full-blooded Amazon I knew and wehad an understanding that if the nature of my affair with Rhada became public,bad shit would happen. Oh yeah, Pamela would understand, but her opinion meantsquat to everyone but me, and Selena the assassin was also on the list. I rolled Rhada's limp body to one side and gently applied the ointment to herswollen and raw nipples and lashed breasts. In retrospect, I'd been harsherthan I thought I could be. She relished the attention then and now, and I wasas careful as I could be. The right side done, I went to the left beforeletting her rest on her front once more. That part of aftercare done, I beganusing some massage oil on her shoulders and thighs where her muscles and jointshad been stretched. By the time I had finished, she was, I thought, sound asleep. I settled inbeside her, running my hand through her luxurious black hair now sticky withsweat and down her spine avoiding the wounded flesh. She surprised me bycatching me tenderly petting her with her eyes slit open. Rhada had beenwatching me. "You do care for me," she trailed off. "If I didn't care about you, I would have told Katrina by now and let herforbid us from seeing one another," I enlightened her. "Oh, but you kept us a secret from her," she smiled languidly."Thank you. I know you value her as your mentor." "That's one way to look at our working affiliation," I shrugged. "Speaking of affiliations, was it your idea, or Buffy's?" she yawned. "Not mine, since I have no clue what you are talking about." "Buffy proposed to the Council an answer to our issue of theRegency," she eyed me. I went back to plucking the sweaty strands of hairoff her back and brushing them to the side. "Still not me, what did she propose?" "That the Regency be a single House head, an Apprentice and aRunner," she informed me. "I doubt we will approve a runner."Rhada's eyes closed as she soaked up my presence and compassionate gesture."I was thinking I might volunteer to be the Apprentice since, the Regencywill remain in New York." "Madi would allow this?" "Madi wants to get back to the Homeland (India) now that the fight hasheated up there. She is worried about our sisters going into battle. She wantsto be there to lead them," she confessed. "What about you? What do you want, Rhada?" "I want to, serve my people," "And be close to me?" I inquired. She looked away. "I'd likethat. Besides, I'm getting into danger all the time, so no place near me issafe. You will have plenty of chances to fight for the Host by stayinghere." "Surely?" she turned back to me. "I should have thought of that.I would like to stay, to fight by your side, Slayer of Ajax." Moreunwanted glory.
Damn she felt good. Five pushes in I turned her around, placing her right kneebeneath me and pulling her left leg to my hip. That traction allowed me toshamelessly plow away. This was primal fucking and nothing but. I was usingRhada to slake my lusts and letting her get inside my mind. I turned into herwarrior dominant and she lay helpless before me.
"So who you thinkthe House Head will be?" I changed the subject slightly. "Madi wants to insure it will be a 'reliable', meaning conservativemember," she sighed. "We might have to pick two. I doubt we willelect a Runner to be our leader." "What about Buffy? She is a former Runner and now Ishara'sApprentice," I suggested. Rhada studied me. "I don't think we have considered that. You are honored now and Buffy ishonored because of your efforts in the war. She might be acceptable,"Rhada smiled up at me. "I love you," she murmured softly. "I love you too," I replied in the same tone. Did I love her? Ididn't know. I really wasn't sure what love was. A romantic soul would haveconfessed that and their loneliness to the world. Me? Nope. Truth didn't belongin passionate, thus irrational, relationships. Being caught in the liedestroyed relationships, not necessarily the lying itself. Telling Rhada 'I love you' made her happy and she deserved to be happy with thetorturous means she had chosen for herself. I thought she was freaky, but I wasokay with that because it made her shine inside and out. If Rhada wanted tobelieve we had a special bond, so be it. I'd had special bonds with plenty ofwomen before her, and with this one, she was a further part of all the otherweirdness that I called a normal day. Our seriousness had returned to sensualplay. She stretched her left leg over my left, hissing slightly. I'd tore up herHeine but good and it hurt when her gluts flexed. Even with the unguents, shewas going to know pain for the next few days. I was sure she'd enjoy theperverse thrill. "Did my captive enjoy her spanking?" "No," she fibbed piteously. I almost expected 'thank you, may I haveanother'. "Lying will just make me impress upon you my domination more firmly nexttime," I grumbled. She shivered. "Next time I'll fight harder," she swore. I wasn't convinced. "You'll still end up tied to my bed with my rod driving in deep," Ipromised. That earned me another shiver of lust. "Promise," she whispered. I tilted her head up so that we were eye toeye and nose to nose. Rhada pushed her body up and forward until we kissed."I like this." "I like this too. You feel good beneath my hands," I told her. Shesmiled warmly, affectionately. Muscle fatigue took hold and she collapsed on mychest. I stroked her hair for several seconds until her gentle snoring reachedmy ears. When I arrived at weapons practice in the morning, I was dog tired and sure Ihad to take care of one more thing before showing up at the office. I relayed amessage to Saint Marie I needed five minutes of her time right after Katrina'smorning review in Katrina's office. I sent word to Katrina, warning her as wellas Buffy and Helena. Pamela showed up right before seven and I couldn't figurea good way to shush her away. That meant I had enough pain in my life for themoment. Once there, after my final intern work review (I had facilitated a project thatcreated a flying fish/piranha hybrid), after the other new hires left, I toldthose four how I had killed Ajax: I had fed him to an angry goddess. SzelAnyahad done all the heavy lifting and she deserved the accolades. I couldn't ingood conscience continue living under that cloud and accepting the glory thatwas truly hers. The Golden Mare stepped up and we clasped arms. "I'm about to hug you," Saint Marie cautioned me. "Don't doanything stupid." Then she hugged me and I kept my hands above the waistdespite my innate temptation to do something erotic. "I suppose you will let everyone know," I said when she pulled back.Our arms were still clasped. "I plan to tell the Council," she snorted with amusement,"mainly because it stands to help SzelAnya become an Amazon House. As forthe rest of the Host ~ I have no problem letting you be the heroine, hero, whoslew one of our greatest enemies. After all, if you could kill Ajax with yourwits and will, how can they do any less?" "We are in a desperate war against stiff odds, Cáel," Katrinaexplained. "That you killed Ajax, and I do believe Ajax wouldn't be deadwithout you, helps us believe destiny is on our side. There is nothing we can'tdo. What I want to know is how did you get SzelAnya to aid you?" "Oh that," I released the Golden Mare's arm. "Umm, I believethat when Ishara enacted that curse through me, I was able, in a limitedfashion, to peek through the Weave. When something supernatural is looking atme, I can sense it. That is how I saw the ghost at summer camp. When Iinteracted with Alkonyka, I drew SzelAnya's attention." "I could see her just on the other side of the Weave, trying to interactin some way to help her few surviving descendants. I hypothesized that I couldcontact her if I was rendered violently unconscious and since I was bound tothe Unconquered in the same way I am linked to Temujin, Saku and Alal, I couldbring him over into what I call my 'Ishara-space' and deliver us both toSzelAnya." "What if she had killed you?" Saint Marie studied me. "I was actually hoping Ajax would last long enough for me to regainconsciousness," I shrugged. "Barring that, I was going to try talkingmy way out of it." "Which was it?" Katrina mused. "She decided she had uses for me, so I got to live," I grinned."It was a close thing and an experience I hope never to repeat.Unfortunately she also saved my life over the Pacific so that's two I owe her,and Ishara isn't happy about that." "Your female deity is disappointed in you," Saint Marie snorted."I'm happy I am not alone." "Not so much disappointed as," "Territorial," Katrina finished for me. "I know thefeeling." "What? Me?" I looked her way. "I'm about to lose you to JIKIT," she pointed out, "and I barelygot you back. Now I'm not even getting my last eleven days, all because thelarger world needs you. Cáel, I want you to know that you have made my job farmore fulfilling because of the attitude you take toward our work." "I thought I was giving you headaches." "No. That would be me," Saint Marie interjected. "Katrina isyour third greatest fan." "Buffy and Helena?" I looked to Buffy and Helena. "Of course," Katrina nodded. "They will be forever trying torepay you for the gift you gave them ~ to make them a full-fledged Amazon.Buffy is even prouder that you have entrusted her and Helena with expandingyour House." "We earned the right, Cáel, but so had many other deserving Runners whonever got the chance," Buffy stated. "You gave all Runners real hopethat any of us could one day be in a House, with children of our own. That oursouls would go on for eternity." "I especially like your idea to induct Runners whose time had passed sothat your history would run both forward and backwards at the same time,"Helena added. "Speaking of telling people something they deserve to know,"Katrina's hawk-like gaze regarded Saint Marie. "Being the sponsor of HouseSzelAnya, he needs to know something about House Illuyankamunus." "I am not the High Priestess, Katrina," Saint Marie bristled. "You have her authority invested in you," Katrina persisted."How is he to know how much trouble he is causing unless you enlightenhim?" Saint Marie growled, torn between two difficult choices. "Everyone else, leave the room," Saint Marie grumbled. Buffy shot meworried look before scooting out with Helena. That left Pamela. "I'm not staying because I think you will lie to him," Pamela stood."I'm staying here because Cáel needs a filter, and he'll tell me anywaywhen I ask." "I'm glad I never had to work with you," Saint Marie glared."You and I would not have gotten along." "I think we would have gotten along fine," Pamela gave a lopsidedgrin. "We would have hated one another then let each of us do what we aregood at. You are a good strategist, Golden Mare. You are the right War Leaderat the right time. I despise you, but I acknowledge the Host could do a wholelot worse." "I am not even going to respond to that backhanded compliment in any otherway than say, may death welcome you soon." "Hey now," I intervened. "Pamela is the Pat Garret to my 'Billythe Kid'." "Cáel, Garret murdered Billy," Katrina grinned. "No I didn't," Pamela struck a pose. "I helped him fake hisdeath so he could live a normal life." "What she said," I agreed. "Fine! Fine," Saint Marie threw up her hands. "Ishara," "Call me Wakko," I interrupted. "We are friends." "We are not friends," she growled. "Besides, I thought your codename was Yakko." "That didn't work out for me. People think I'm the crazy one." "Crazier one," Pamela corrected me. "What she said," I pointed to Pamela. "To think I am letting you be more famous than me," the Golden Maremuttered. "Why have the ancestors done this to me?" "In private you get to hit him as much as you like," Katrina pointedout. Saint Marie punched me in the upper arm "Ow!" I squawked. "Shouldn't you be doing something aboutthis?" I looked to Pamela. "I don't like her, but she's justified," Pamela shrugged. "Bitch,ow!" I yelped when Saint Marie punched me again, in the samespot. "I was saying that about Pamela," I told her. Saint Marie looked toPamela. "Oh no," she smirked. "I'll get him later, when he's notexpecting it." "Where were we?" Saint Marie shook her head. "House Illuyankamunus," Katrina steered us back on course. "At the end of the Second Betrayal, the entirety of House Illuyankamunusprotested the Council's decision, yet refused to oppose the decision. Theyswore to be a daily reminder of our shame until the last one died, which theythought would be soon. They were not alone in feeling shame over what we did,which you have proven to be wrong. Others felt the same way, and instead of'taking themselves to the cliff' when the Host was in such dire circumstances,they joined the House of the Thunder Dragon." "Since that time, when individual Amazons feel they have been heinouslyshamed by their fellows without redress, the High Priestess has given them theoption of joining Illuyankamunus instead," the Golden Mare explained. "But, oh, by the time SzelAnya recovered, all the original Illuyankamunusmust have been dead," I reasoned. "Her heart remained with thechildren of Bolu, so she never returned to the Amazons who fought in hername." "This 'out' has only been known to the highest ranking Amazons,"Saint Marie cautioned me. "Only the Council heads involved in suchdecisions have been told of the true nature of Illuyankamunus, and not all haveagreed that the House should have been allowed to continue. Only the HighPriestess, the Keeper of Records and the House Head knew the goddess had turnedher back on her followers, and until you intervened, we didn't know the 'why'of the matter." "Had you not jumped the gun, we might have been able to integrate the twoHouses, but you had to speak up and now we have theoptionofretaining House Illuyankamunus as an alternative to a wasted death and adding anew House that will re-forge a bond with men." "Even in a small way," I nodded. "It is never enough for you," Saint Marie glowered. "He does not push from behind," Katrina rallied to my defense."He leads from the front like the charming lemming he is." "Squeak!" "The fox is an animal I identify with," Saint Marie kept glaring."Foxes eat lemmings." "Is that an invitation to, Ow!" she punched me. "At least hit mesomewhere else next time," which I realized a second to late meant,"OW!" she punched my other arm. "Bodyguard! Body-guard," I staggered toward Pamela. "You are in no real danger. That's just Amazon foreplay," she beamedhappily my way. "No, it is not," Saint Marie seethed. "I find himabhorrent." "Come on fisherman," Pamela shrugged. "I'm coming. I'm coming. Katrina, I'll have something to report to you bythe end of the day. I'm out of here while I still have use of my arms." "Cáel, remember to not tell anyone," Saint Marie warned me. "About the Amazons having another weird way of being obstinatesurvivalists? Sure, no problem," I shrugged. "That's breaking down a sacred tradition into another one of yourdelusional qualifications," Saint Marie accused me. "That's his way of saying he understands and has sympathy for our answerto the dilemma of unanswerable personality conflicts," Katrina translated. "That's not what he said." "Fine, the Host is doing something that keeps some people alive so Iheartily approve and understand the need for secrecy because rapid and completesolutions are all too often the solution our people reach," I elucidated. "You could have told me that," Saint Marie said. I put some distancebetween us. "What fun would that be, come Kato!" I hurried out the door. "You got that one right," Pamela laughed as she followed me out."Now that the fun is over, it is time to get ourselves to theoffice." In a simple life you can always go 'well let me ask (somebody)'. On thesurface, my relationship with JIKIT and the Khanate was that way. When JIKITwanted something from the Khanate, they formally asked me and I asked Iskender,or if the matter was crucial enough, OT (Beg Oyuun T Since I was no longer twelve and asking the teacher for a bathroom pass, orgiving the Vice Principle a note excusing me from school, I had to be carefulwhat I asked for and had to filter requests through my own insights. LadyYum-Yum (Fathom Worthington-Burke of the UK's MI-6) and Addison Stuart (CIA'sNational Clandestine Service) taught me to divine the 'yes, I'm on it', 'we'llwork on it' and 'not in this lifetime' replies. I couldn't make those decisions on whether or not the asking individual was adouche. Lives were hanging in the balance, even if the terms used were 'frozenassets' or informal requests to locate missing persons lost in the chaos ofWestern China. I had taken those lessons into my meeting with Ferit Hoxha,Permanent Representative of Albania to the United Nations. I was supposed to smooth things over with him concerning my kidnapping. I didmy normal in depth internet research (I swear, I keep meaning to donate moneyto Wikipedia) before our meeting so we could have something to talk about. Wekept it simple, he expresses his country's deepest regrets over my kidnapping(because telling the truth that the Chinese had done it was too plain for me)then began talking about family.
Around dessert time the words 'what would you do if the Khanate asked you tojoin?' came spilling out of my mouth. Why? Maybe I was possessed. Did I knowabout the political background of the Balkans? No. I knew that Albanian andGreek girls looked different and that Albanians were Muslims whereas Greekswere Christian.
Thanks to the JIKIT team, I knew Greece had economic problems poor Albaniacould barely aspire to. They were the wimpy kid on the playground that neverhad a real shot at coming into their own. I felt bad about that, I guess, so Ioffered to bring them into Temujin's Big Tent. He would feel honored, I'd feelgood about it and, he leaned across the table and said 'really?'
So I made shit up. Of course Temujin valued Albania's geopolitical location onthe European continent. How could he not? With the home of pizza and nun-pornjust across the, Adriatic and bunches of hot Slavic chicks to the north, whatwasn't to love? My blood-brother, the Great Khan, was worried about his growingposition via-a-vis Europe and who better to be his point men than theAlbanians?
I am so full of shit. Sometimes I even stun myself.
Of course he would have to check with his government, but he and other factorswithin the Albanian government had been hoping for such a thing, huh?
Of course he was pleased that of all the languages in the world I was able tospeak, I had chosen Albanian. It showed my dedication to his country's cause.Blame Alal.
Of course Albania would maintain its palatinate status within the Khanate,because I said so, that's why.
Of course my buddy Temujin wouldn't leave me (and the Albanians) hanging aroundwith our cocks in our hands looking like idiots, because I was doing him agreat favor I was totally unaware of.
Of course Greece was viewing Turkey with growing alarm due to its powerfulposition within the expanding Khanate, because they have over five hundredyears of bad blood and blood feuds I was ignorant of. Come on now, it doesn'ttake me a week to forgive people who have tried to kill me.
Of course Greece was in 'secret' talks with Russia about the Turkish Questionsince it looked like the rest of NATO wasn't going to do anything,
And Temujin was aware of this threat to his European flank but had been unableto address it,
And now he could use Albania to flank Greece the same way Russia was usingGreece to flank Turkey.
I'm a freaking Realpolitik genius. Just ask Fathom, Addison and OT. I had tolook 'realpolitik' up to realize it was spelled with a 'k'. I had calledIskender, he had called OT and OT had immediately called the Khan. Twenty-sevenminutes later, OT called me back and had me set up a meeting with Ferit. Oh,and Iskender was coming over to talk about something the Great Khan wantedJIKIT to work on.
I said okay.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Hana finds a place in Cáel’s Amazon Life.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
You neverreally know what youcan'tdo until you've tried to do it and failed
I saw Iskender at leastonce a week, so I didn't know this was a bad sign. My superiors were wary tomeet Iskender because intelligence types like their routines. When assets startacting strange, strange things happen. I knew this to be true. When yournormally suspicious girlfriend suddenly acts all lovey-dovey,, she knows ~ sheknows. Iskender's face showed that he didn't much like this change to our meetingschedule either. Introductions went around. Odette was the only one to say'Glad to finally meet you' and mean it. "Cáel Nyilas," he finally turned to me, "I bear a request fromthe Great Khan himself." No beating around the bush with this crowd. "What do you need?" I replied. Irrationally, I found myself hoping'please say you need a second for 'beer-pong''. "Here is a flash drive with the particulars, but the basics are that weneed the United States and the United Kingdom to lend diplomatic support to ourefforts to obtain war material and other equipment from other alignednations," he said. "Things like?" Addison asked. "Ships from the United States, tanks from Germany, helicopters from Franceand computer components for Japan and South Korea," he replied. "Thisis a list of roughly five thousand items we are attempting to procure." "Sure, we'll help," I volunteered. "Cáel, before someone has an aneurism, why don't you find out what yourteam can do," Pamela burst my bubble. "Sir, what exactly does your faction think we at JIKIT can do? We are acovert interim unit with limited authority and oversight," Addison stated. "Wouldn't this be something you could accomplish through your ownextra-ordinary resources?" Yum-Yum asked. "We can only get so much through back channels and shell companies,"he replied. "With the quantities the Khanate needs," he trailed off. "You can't make that many purchases," I nodded. Even I knew an eighteenyear old could buy a six-pack with little effort and a so-so fake ID. Buyingfive kegs was a totally different matter. There was a silence. "Iskender, give the team 48 hours to go over this data. We will eitherreturn it as if we never received it, or act upon the information on yourbehalf," Yum-Yum spoke with finality. "I understand," he bowed his head. "I will await yourresponse."
"I'll see youout," I told Iskender. "I get the feeling you knew this would be ourreply." "I didn't, but the Great Khan did," he gave a weak smile."Honestly, I don't know what to make of the request." "We do and I think we can get it done," I assured him. I escorted himto the elevator then returned to the room. I didn't have to be told what was wrong with this. If your girl finds out youate fast food with another chick, you can explain it away. If you got take-out,or breakfast at some nice nook, then you had trouble by association. By givingus their Christmas list, Temujin had told us more than what he needed. He wastelling us what he didn't need as well. This gave us incredible insight into Khanate economic and military policy overthe next three years. See, you could go to Best Buy and purchase a 72"widescreen TV. It was what Best Buy did. You couldn't show up expecting to buy500,000 TV's though. To get them you had to tell the manufactures they neededto build them because there was a market for that many systems. In turn, they need to buy the various components they didn't build themselves.That meant you would need to smelt more copper, produce more plastics and minemore cadmium, because they would be needed. Therefore, what the Khanate wasordering was stuff they expected to get three to thirty-six months down theline. This went beyond the war with China. As an example, the Khanate was ordering 265 Leopard 2A7 tanks from Germany tobe delivered within two years. Germany didn't have those tanks lying around.They needed to build them. They had to expand the factories to build them andtherefore produce all the components you needed for a brand new cutting edgetank at a faster rate than ever before. This also told us the Khanate didn't expect to build enough tanks for their ownuse, much less export to allies such as Vietnam. Maybe they didn't have theconstruction capacity, or maybe they were busy building something else. Wecould figure that out by seeing what else they were purchasing abroad, thingslike cars, trucks, tractors and locomotives. This was an excellent and powerful gift. It was also, "This is poison," Addison began the next phase of the meeting. "I disagree," Mehmet Ali Sharif (our State department analyst)countered. "This will provide JIKIT with exceptional insight into what theKhanate's medium term goals are." "It is both," Yum-Yum nodded. "The question is 'who are we going to share this with?'" I sighed.That was the critical juncture. After all, the UK and US had team of analystswhose sole job was to make forecasts like this. "We decide that in 47 "Will do. Addison, let's burrow through this data to see what we can sendto who," he got to work. "Cáel, what is your insight into the Great Khan's thinking," Addisonturned to me. "Are we being suborned?" I had to think that over. "Yeah," I nodded. "He's got six months to figure out who isfriends and enemies are and he might as well decide where we stand right now.If we share this data, he gets hurt, but it will mean the end of our taskforceand the end of real hard information about what the Khanate is up to aswell." "Serving three masters never turns out well," Yum-Yum smirked."Still, our regular intelligence agencies are months away from piecingtogether the inner workings of the Khanate and we have jack-off HUMINT on theground. Our respective countries have 'back-burner-ed' Central Asia and nowthat's biting us in the ass. Barring an excessive NBC (Nuclear, Biological, orChemical weapons) platform, I think we buy in." That meant becoming a true intermediator between our respective governments andthe Khanate. That also meant continuing to work with the Amazons and 9 Clans,because if we betrayed the Khanate at this juncture, how much could the othersreally trust us? No, to keep JIKIT going, we were going to hide thisinformation, thus becoming complicit in what the Khanate planned. We had already wandered past the point of intelligence-gathering and analysisto actual policy-making some time ago. This was the point of no return though.This wasn't plausible deniability. This was actively helping the Khanateachieve their national goals and meant moving beyond the realm of covertactivities and into one of co-conspirators. I honestly thought we'd all buy in. "So, what's next on the agenda?" I posed the question. "Someone is late for their knife-fighting training," Pamela gave me ashark's smile. I smiled too. Finally I had something to do that I didn'tunderstand, but didn't mind being ignorant about. If I fucked up, it would allbe on me. Brooke Lee was many things, but being a cook wasn't one of them. What inspiredher to cook dinner was almost beyond me. It had to do with that checklist womengo through when seeing what a guydoesn'tsee in them. Brookewas gorgeous, fun to be around (if a bit snobby) and good in the sack. So, whatmade me closer to Libra and Hana than her? She wasn't trying to compete withthe Amazons, thank God. She was better looking than Libra (true) and just as much fun, and if Libra wasa better lay she would have hung herself, so it had to come down to womanlystuff ~ things like housecleaning, buying stuff and cooking. House-cleaning wasa continuous menial effort and she had a maid service for that. Buying stuff?She had that down pat. Cooking? How hard could that be? very, but she hadn't accepted that, so here Iwas eating charred prime rib, rubbery asparagus tips, lumpy mash potatoes (madefrom real potatoes, I'd seen the peals in the trashcan) and some sort of Tomatosalad. When she informed me she was cooking, I began looking for a reason notto come over for a late night rendezvous. Then she dropped the E-bomb. "If you don't come over, it will be just me and Casper (Winslow)again." "Casper's still in town?" I asked. Since that horrible weekend whereI first met Hana (good for my life), her father (hates my guts) and her cruelbrother Brennan (now dead by my indirect intervention), Casper's life had beenone of healing from the worst kind of treatment (by Brennan's now deceasedposse) possible. I couldn't treat her like a pariah. "I'm coming over to see you, but it will be great to see Casper again aswell," I elaborated/exaggerated. "Great," she gushed. "I'll see you at nine." "Make in nine thirty," I said. "I need to see a girl about abed." "You are horrible," she chided me playfully, clearly not believingme. "No I'm not. I'm tucking Aya into bed. She has an early start tomorrow andshe's going to be gone all weekend, so this will be the last time I'll see heruntil Monday night. I'll be at your place as soon as possible after that,"I told her. Aya was going to Doebridge and I was making a habit of steeringclear of that Amazon municipality. Their security and I had a disagreement lasttime I was there. "It is sweet of you to keep up with that little girl you were kidnappedwith," she cooed. "You are a cool, great guy." "She's a special kid. We share a bond," I said. That was true andthen some. "I'll see you at nine-thirty. You won't be disappointed." And so I was at Brooke's at nine-thirty, getting ready to eat a largelyindigestible dinner. Casper had stammered a greeting while looking at mehappily. The smoke from the kitchen was warning enough of what was to come. Imade light of the charred disaster. I didn't point out that two hours at 350didn't equate to an hour and a half at 450. It just didn't. Brooke made up for her culinary inadequacies by looking good enough to eat offthe plate, off the floor, or between the covers. She had on an Aqua tank top,black bra and khaki shorts with open-toed sandals on her feet. Casper was inthe same general get up, except her tank top was white as was her bra. I carved up the beast while those two stood around drinking wine. The roastbeast (original species uncertain) was as dry as leather, but the knife wassharp. We discussed Brooke's job hunting lack of success. The jobs she wasqualified for didn't pay enough, required her to ignore too much leering andwere generally an insult to her intelligence. Basic 'intern' stuff really. I mentioned Libra's job with Hana. She created some excuses about making herown way in the world then followed that up by asking if I could use my newfoundinfluence to send some job offers her way. 'Surely not everyone at Havenstonewasthat way'. No. She had seem them being polite. They could bemuch, much worse. "Why don't you become a consultant?" I suggested. "That would be nice," Casper said. Brooke had become her closestfriend. "What would I consult in?" Brooke inquired. "Employment," I mused. "You know networking and you know peoplewho are looking for specific kinds of jobs. Start your own business." "I like that idea," Brooke grinned. "I could create a web pageand get business cards, raise the start-up capital and start getting listingsand finding clients." "I know some people who could help out," I offered, "as long asCentral Asia is an acceptable location." "What kind of work do you think you can find?" "Well, they need to build a government," I worked on my idea quicklybecause Brooke was literally dripping with sex. I was thinking'tappingthat booty all night long'sex. Women love sex, romance and sensuality. They also want to love their lives,feel successful and have just as much independence as they fantasize to be agood thing. I was coming through for Brooke yet again. I'd bolstered her whenher former fiance's life imploded, casting her aside. I'd later given her thestrength to make a moral stand for Casper and now I was helping her out of hercareer doldrums. God, she was going to let me fuck her silly. She was going tobe freaking animal. But first we had to pretend to eat before we somehow shuffled Casper off tobed. The tomato salad was edible. It turned out to be Casper's contribution totonight's festivities. I made sure to compliment her on it, while notmentioning the rest of this disaster. Brooke didn't mind. Midway through themeal, she stood up and paced about while calling her parents. Her Mom answered,so she gave that woman the good news first. My name came up, to her father, and not in a bad way, which was rather rare. 'Yes, I was engaged to Hana Sulkanen. I was also her friend as well asLibra's.' 'I had friends in the Khanate, where business opportunities were aplenty.' 'Security concerns? No. She knew some people (my Amazons) who did that kind ofwork. Besides, it wasn't like she was going there.' "You might want to consider going there and meeting some of their peopleon the ground before sending your friends to that part of the world," Iwhispered. 'Oh, I'll probably go to,' "Astana." 'Astana, their capital. Father, there are extraordinary opportunities there.I'll be fine.' "I'll hire you some private security," I suggested. I wouldn't usethe Ghost Tigers I had guarding Hana. That would be inappropriate. I couldn'tuse Amazons for that kind of work either. I was thinking about using Captain Delilah Faircloth of Her Majesty's MI-6.They had all kinds of contractors they'd used in China who would be looking forwork now that the shooting had temporarily stopped. For all I knew, LadyYum-Yum could use Brooke's new business as a cover to insert British operativesinto the former capital of Kazakhstan. Now that I thought about it, that was a good idea. Brooke would have her handin an espionage operation and not even suspect it at first. Later on, she'dprobably love the peripheral risks and experience was experience. 'Cáel can hire some private security using his government contracts.' 'I know you know people in the government Papa, but Cáel’s people actually killpeople.' Which went over like a bamboo hut in a tidal wave, but Brooke wasirrepressible. Her parents wished her luck, Brooke did a happy dance and Caspersnuggled close to me. "Hey Casper," I put an arm around her. I was relieved she didn'tflinch. I remained a good guy in her estimations of such things. I'd also hackmy own hand off if it tried anything overtly sexual. "How are you comingalong?" "Better, day by day and my therapy group is good, very caring." "Glad to hear it. If there is anything personal that I can do, don'thesitate to ask. It is not a matter of debts to one another. You are worthit." "I'm glad you still think so," she stared up at me. I could easilydismiss her being needy. She was truly a damsel in need of a shoulder, a warmhand and a kind word. I didn't owe her because of Brennan and Anima. I owed heras a fellow human being. "Isn't he the best guy in the world?" Brooke beamed. "We need tofind ourselves one just like him." I couldn't see how that was going tohappen. I was born in the wrong neighborhood, went to the wrong school and hungout with a different brand of friends. The convergence of me with Trent, whichthen led to Libra and Brooke, had been beyond bizarre. Felix was such an idiot for not buying into Brooke instead of stupidly tryingto use her against me. Even that had backfired when I sucker-punched him infront of nearly a hundred Amazons. I'd knocked him out cold because he hadshown more balls than brains in that one encounter. I wouldn't get that luckyagain. I'd have to figure a way a new way to kick his Alpha-male ass. "I'd argue with you, but I'm a hell of a guy. I'm a prince amongmen," I joked. "I mean that literally, I'm a Prince of Hungary andTransylvania." "Does that come with one of those cool sashes and lots of medals andribbons?" Brooke teased. "I'm sure the Hungarians are working on that right now," I chortled. "Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege" Casper murmured. "I readit in USA Today. They said it was something the Romanians gave you, but Iwasn't sure what it was." "In Romanian it is "Prinţul Ungariei şi Transilvaniei",I clarified. "Prinţul is," "Is what?" Brooke said after a moment's lapse. "When I went into battle with the Romanians, that is what they called me.It was a jest of sorts, not real," I sighed, recalling that dark day. Casperpatted my hand. "IsMagyarorszagthe name for 'prince'?" Brookerequested. "Magyarorszagis the name the Hungarians call theirhomeland," I clarified. "Hercege is their word for prince, but let'snot buy into the hype. I'm just a guy with a job that entails greater risk thana pizza delivery driver." "A Jewish pizza delivery driver in downtown Gaza, Cáel. Every time I seeyou, you are sporting a new scar, or scratch. What do you have for me thistime?" she gave me a sultry 'come-hither' look. I caught it and liked whatI saw. Casper caught it and sighed slightly. "I'm sleepy," she yawned. "I should be going to bed." "Oh no," Brooke protested. I almost believed her. "Are yousure?" "Yes. I'll take an Ambien then be out like a light," Casper saidbefore giving my hand another squeeze. "You don't have to do this," I whispered into Casper's ear."I'll brave another one of Brooke's home-cooked meals to spend time withher." Casper giggled. "Hey now! What was that about?" Brooke pouted. She was definitelygoing to be wrapping those scrumptious lips around my sceptre in the next threehours, of that I was certain. "He, ah, was wondering if we could do this again real soon," Casperbabbled, caught between fright and comedy. "Soon," Brooke shot me more of the 'sexy'. "He hasn't even madeit out of the door yet." "I like the way you think," I winked to Brooke. "What do you think is on my mind," she was provoking me. I didn't saya word. I chose to undress her with my eyes instead. She knew what I was doingtoo. "Bedtime," Casper put both hands on the table then stood."Thanks for coming over tonight." I stood as well, hugged her thenbriefly watched her walk away. Just because she was 'handle with care' didn'tmean she wasn't a handful. My miniscule number of rules included not doing itwith girls not in their right minds. I wanted them to be free to hate me whenthe time came. Brooke saw Casper off to the bathroom for her meds and the whole pre-bedtimeritual stuff while I cleaned up the dinner table. Five minutes of work nowmeant not waking up to the smell of ruined food later. The only thing in needof saving was the salad. I Saran Wrapped the rest of it. I was going to claim Iwas taking it into work for breakfast then dispose of it at our HQ ~ One MiMATower. Once I was finished, I puttered around noisily until Brooke came looking. Icould have gone to her bed and stripped naked, eagerly waiting for sex. SinceBrooke was trying to play in the same league as Hana, she might havemisconstrued that as me taking advantage of her. If not tonight then in themorning when she replayed the encounter. Brooke liked to be 'in charge', so Ifed that instinct. I had come here for sex. We both knew that, but we could pretend we didn't.Brooke could then want to have me and got to make sure I wanted her with orwithout sex, so we could have guilt-free sex together. Brooke was not overlycomplicated, for a girl, and she was hot enough to be worth having to gothrough these sorts of games. "Whatchya thinking about?" Brooke said as she sashayed into thekitchenette. "You," I met her gaze. She licked her upper lip. "I've been thinking about you too," she moved within my comfort zone.I obliged her aggression by placing my hands first on her hips then, as Ipulled her close, to the small of her back. We were groin to 'growing' and Iwas very aroused by her presence and her scent. "Are you going to toy with me some more so that I go home tonight stiffand moaning with lust?" I groaned. "I like toying with you," she snickered. "You are fun." "You are fun and sexy. We need to try another beach weekend with lessdrama before the season ends," I played to her amusement. "I don't think I can wait for the weekend," she protested byshimmying her hips against me. "While you were out saving the world, I'vebeen all alone." "Oh hell no!" I hissed. "What brought that on?" "You are ahardact to follow," she teased."I've missed you." "I've missed you too," wasn't a total lie. I hadn't been celibate bya long shot. That didn't mean I didn't miss her. "How about we do a little bit less 'missing'?" she suggested. "I'd like to have you on the sofa," I pressed into her. "I'd like to have you in the bedroom ~ my bed is bigger," shegrinned. My eyes shown with anticipation, which was what she was looking for.Brooke took my hand and led me through the living room and around the corner toher bedroom. She cat-crawled onto the bed while I hurriedly stripped down. She languidly layback on the pillows, hair billowed around her in a dark halo while she hungrilywatched my physique being revealed to her. Brooke's left hand traced a linedown around her breast to her pubic mound where she started playing withherself. Her eyes fluttered, her lust blossomed into womanhood and I was besideher in a flash. Instead of falling in beside her (she was close to her side of the bed), or toher far side, I came at her from the foot of her bed. I spent only a fewseconds kissing her toes, shins and kneecaps. While my kisses made moistlip-prints up her thighs, I unbuttoned her short shorts and undid the zipper.Brooke raised her hips so I could pull her clothing down ~ no panties. To change things up slightly, I finished the removal by turning her over ontoher stomach, then pulling on her hips until she was in the doggy-styleposition. She looked back at me, her eyes framed by dark lashes and darkereyebrows on her tanned flesh. I pressed her shoulder blades down until herbreasts were squeezed against the bed.
After that, I slid downuntil I was on my belly. Using my shoulders and neck, I began licking her labiafrom the hood to the anus. That got her going and before long, I was drinkingfrom her nectar and loosening up her asshole with some quality rimming. Brookehad prepped for me carefully and cleanly and this made me attack her netherregions with renewed gusto. Butt sex was in the offing. Not yet though. I got her all nice and gushing, but I wanted to try somethingmore. I kept my tongue action going on while I coiled my body behind her. Witha quick, graceful repositioning, I rose up on my knees, her thighs resting onmy shoulders while I made furious suction actions onto her. "Yep, Yeah!" Brooke exhaled. "This is, aha, new." True to my predations, while I worried and nibbled her accoutrements, Brooketook one hand (the other she was using to pull her hair aside) and beganstroking me. Her tongue touched my spongy head several times before she stoppedthe outright teasing and placed her lips upon me. She didn't suck it in. On no.She sucked on my angry red helmet, running her lips right to the edge then backagain, as if I was a Popsicle. I was leaning back on my haunches because of the awkward hold on hips with theweight I had to support. Not that Brooke was at all heavy. "Crawl forward," I mumbled from between her legs. It took her a fewseconds to figure out I wanted to return us to our starting position. She madea great display of slithering forward. My tongue stayed in her cunt until bothher knees hit the comforter. At that stage she was ready to go and my forcefulness lifted her kneestemporarily off the sheets. With my third lunge, Brooke reached back and stopped my rocking motion. Istilled which allowed her to reach over to the side table, open the drawer andpull out a designer bottle of lubricant. This was one of those bottles with the glass stopper, so it make a slightgrinding sound as I opened it. Brooke want down onto all fours, her palmsresting on the comforter. Her head was down and her waist-long black hairmasked her features, but not her sounds of pleasure. "Arch your back Brooke," I said as I inhaled her intoxicating aroma.She did so willingly. I let the oil pour down in a thin stream and rubbed it inwith my thumb. I had to carefully aim my phallus because Brooke hadn't been lying about herlack of sexual attention. She was tight and hadn't been plundered by anyone inmy long (for me) absence. Hell, this long and I was normally back to 'make-up'sex. I certainly wasn't going to be ramming my rod home with any great passionfor a few minutes. I didn't want to cause her (too much) pain nor have her anal muscles constrictthe skin off my love missile. "Oh," she moaned. "I love it when you are gentle, Cáel. Itreminds me how much you care for how I feel." She punctuated thatstatement by rolling her hips, driving in my entire length in her lubricatedalternate option. Her body tensed up then bucked. I popped out. "Put it back in," she gasped. There was so much to love about Brookeand her enthusiasm. Once back in, I rested my left hand on the small of herback to keep her back arched while I reached around with my right and begantwisting and palming her right breast through her shirt and bra. As I wasslowly twisting and thrusting, Brooke's arms gave out and she went face firstinto her pillow. Her breast pressed my hand down on the comforter and herrepositioning drove a full inch of me suddenly into her. Brooke gave out a strangled sob followed by a whimpering sound. My left handtook my weight. My right came around and pulled her hair away from her face soshe could breathe easier and I could judge her pain through her facialexpressions. "Oh God," she spat a strand of hair out of her mouth, "It feelslike you are going to split me in half." "Too late to back out now," I teased her. "I can, hiss, take anything you can give me, Cáel Nyilas," shetaunted me through clenched teeth. I gave her another inch for herimpertinence. She tried to crawl forward before she surprised me by thrustingup and back. "God damn!" she howled. "You're huge!" I imagined that I would feel like a fucking Sequoyah shoved up my ass if Ipulled off a stunt like that too. Brooke was game for more. I had enough inthat now I could start a rhythm without fear of popping out. Her handsbunched up the comforter around her head as she hung on for dear life. Thisfelt so good that squeezing my last bit in felt rather inconsequential afterall the physical and erotic ground we had covered up until then. Brooke's stomach clenched up as her spontaneous ecstasy jumped her and me.Every muscle in her body spasmed, including her rectal ones. I was shooting offinto her bowels inside a second. My heat only made her climax come that muchharder. I kept humping away like a chimp on crack while Brooke began to squealout between baited breathe. "Damn, that was intense," I remarked as I fell to her side. Brookewas still face down/ass up with her eyes squeezed shut, still riding throughher own aftershocks of her sensual seismic waves. "Oh, oh, oh," she panted hoarsely. "I want to, (pant), do thatagain, real soon." I spanked her ass loudly and prepared on shaky legs to remount her. "No," she moaned. "Give my ass a minute's rest. Can't we dosomething else for a while?" "How about I get cleaned up and get you a hot wash cloth?" Isuggested as my nostrils flared. "I'll just lie here and feel sated," she murmured. Her knees sliddown until her stomach was down on the bed. I gave her abused backside anothertender spank then slid off the bed.
"I know this is what you like," she panted in anticipation. I knewthis was what we both wanted by the way she ran her fingers along my palmbefore making the hand-off.
I quick-stepped itout of Brooke’s room, and nearly tripped over Casper who hadbeen out in the hall watching us. "I," she stammered. I shut the door then crossed the hallway fromher. "No problems, Casper. I was hoping that we wouldn't wake you up," Icoaxed her down the hallway to her door, and away from Brooke's room. I noticedher eyes constantly flicking down to my crotch. "Hang on," I held upmy hand. When she nodded, I quietly sprinted down to the living room, grabbedup a throw pillow then sprinted back. Now I could be covered up. "Why didn't you get a towel out of the bathroom?" Casper whispered. "I'm an idiot," I shrugged. She sniffled then giggled. "You make Brooke very happy, but," "But?" "But you are engaged to Hana Sulkanen." "I'm a Love Monkey," I shrugged. "I find it difficult to be withjust one woman. It is never that a woman isn't enough for me. It is that thereis something wrong with me that is never truly satisfied so I keeproaming." "Don't you, worry about the women you are with?" "I'm not a wonderful human being, Casper. That is all I can think tosay." "You aren't like Brennan, not like that, hold on." Casper retreatedto her room then came back with a folded up piece of news print. By the size itwas one of those articles you found on page 17. "Here," she handed itover. "It was delivered here in an envelope with my name on it." I looked it over. A 'Jane Doe' had been found in Charleston harbor, SC, deadfrom an overdose. "Three days before I got that, I got a call from Anima," she told me."She told me," Casper gulped. "She told me that she was verysorry about all that had happened. She was sorry. That was it." "Oh." "Anima is dead now, isn't she?" "Yeah, I think so," I noted sadly. "Does that change anythingwith you?" "I don't know. I mean, Brooke told me that you would make sure none ofthose people would ever be around to bother me again, but, was this you?" "No and yes. I told someone with the power to make a difference whathappened to you and who was responsible. After that, I never heard about thematter again. Anima did stop by once, crazy with fear but unrepentant. Ihonestly feel that how she ended up feeling wouldn't have made a difference onwhether she lived, or died. I don't know what to make of her call." "She, it doesn't help. I still have to take a sleeping pill to keep thenightmares away. I haven't told my therapist about the death, or how everyoneelse is either dead or disappeared. I don't know what to think. I was hopingyou would." "I'm not normally the person people go for answers. I'll make up ananswer, if that's what you want." She reached up and touched my forearm. "I prefer honesty," she smiled. "I guess I was hoping for you tobe more, perfect than you are. That was unfair of me." "You wouldn't be the first person to mistake me for a decent humanbeing," I joked. "Usually that misconception only lasts a week or so.I promise you... I'll be living down to your expectations in no time." "Brooke thinks highly of you, and so do I. We've known you more than acouple of weeks," Casper feebly jibed. "I've been behaving myself," I teased her.' "Brooke sounded," she trailed off. I waited. "You two sound likeyou enjoyed one another." "That's how it is supposed to be. You'll feel that one day too. You'llmeet someone who thinks of your pleasure first. And, if he doesn't, you willhave to train him to do it right." "You make it sound so easy," Casper sighed. "Do you really think I'm that unique?" "A prince, avenger, soldier-of-fortune, titan of the bedroom?" shelightened up. We'd crossed a barrier. I was 'joke-able'. "We have union meetings every third Wednesday," I grinned. "Wekick back, drink a few beers and figure out what hot spots and hotties we needto concentrate on for the next month." "I, thank you, Cáel," she smiled. "For what?" "For not disappointing me. You are a nicer guy than you give yourselfcredit for." "Thank you, Casper," I reached over and hugged her. She didn'tflinch. "For treating me like I can make a difference." "I need to go to bed now," she yawned. I hugged her again thenstepped back. She walked to her door and began to shut it. I swore I heard herwhisper 'you do', but I wasn't sure. I had to hurry to the bathroom, heat up awash cloth while cleaning up, before finally getting back to Brooke. I foundher reclining on the bed, totally naked. "Sorry I took so long," I told her. "I know. It is okay. I heard most of it," she glowed happily."Casper needs someone, someone who isn't me. I'm not the most patientfriend in the world. I sort of feel responsible for her and she needs someoneto talk to about normal stuff, but I miss going to clubs and hanging out withfriends who talk back." I sat on the bed and began to run the warm clothup her thighs. "What was it like, that fight in Romania?" she asked as we switchedoff with the washcloth. She tenderly worked over her abused anal region. "The battle? A skirmish really," "Yes," she paused. "Between that and being kidnapped, you've hada mentally draining time since we last spent some time together. You act likeyou haven't changed much, but," "It's okay. I know it sounds clich "If you don't want to talk about it," Brooke gave me an out. I couldtell this was a part of my life she wanted to be a part of; my manliness ondisplay. "I'm okay. I can't really say I was scared for myself either time. Duringthe kidnapping I was concerned for Aya. All of the normal human stuff camelater, after the crisis was over. During the kidnapping, there isn't much totalk about. As for the fight, at the time I had a plan and was waiting for theopportunity to implement it. Bullets were flying. Men around me were gettingwounded. I can't recall seeing any of the men on my side getting killed." "Did you get shot?" she stroked my abdomen. "Bruised, though my flak jacket had to do its job once or twice," Isighed. I could almost hear the sounds of the bullets whizzing around me oncemore. Wounded men hadn't screamed out when they were hit. They'd grunted. Thecries would come later when the enormity of their pain sunk in. "I made sure the main bad guy ~ the Boss ~ didn't get away. I think Iwounded one guy. That was it; my contribution to the battle." "It was your plan that won the fight though, right?" "Yes. I did what leaders are supposed to do, but that didn't mean I couldsave all my guys and gals." "You are very courageous," Brooke cuddled in. "You don't backdown often, but you are not an ass about it. You are the least 'macho-asshole'macho-man I've ever met, and I'd like to see more of you," she purred. "I'm already naked," I played na "I guess I'll just have to appreciate the naked you some more then,"she chortled. Brooke took charge long enough for me enter her then we combinedour efforts, her moving with her thighs and me with my hands on her hips, toengage in some serious love-making. This is not a political commentary, public personalities have been butchered inorder to make the story light-hearted "Hey," Brooke asked softly, "can I join?" I was halfway thru my clean up when she'd opened the shower stall door, but Ihad some time. "Sure. I'll wash your back if you wash mine," Ioffered. She gave me a sly grin as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. Isignaled her to turn with her back to me (never a safe position), poured someliquid soap in my hands and began lathering her up. "Did you think you could leave me with only a kiss," she said as shebacked up against me. "I thought you were asleep when I kissed you," I whispered into herear. "I was. You are such a romantic, I assumed you kissed me because that'swhat you always do. You have a light touch." "We were up late," I teased. "You are up early," she let her left hand travel down between usuntil she could wrap her fingers around my cock. "Being with you, it is hardly a surprise," I chuckled. "Are you implying youlikeme?" she serpentined herbody against mine. "Me likey, me likey a whole bunch," I told her as I nibbled her ear.Brooke responded by pulling my phallus around like a clock arm until it wasfixed between her thighs and rubbing up against her. We left it there a while,she rocking her hips back and forward while I soaped up her front the way I hadlathered her back. After all, this was foreplay. This was kisses planted along her shoulders, neck, ears and, as I turned herhead around, on her lips. Brooke was whining with need after our last Frenchkiss, so I pushed my hips back and pressed her down with a hand on hermid-back. At the perfect angle, I let her slip me in. Brooke had one hand against the tiled wall while the other reached under toplay, as I went in. This was an excellent symmetry we had developed. I pulled out suddenly. "No," Brooke protested. She turned around to see me pull a condomfrom behind the shampoo and quickly apply it. Brooke giggled. "Thank youfor that, but don't you think it is a little late in our night together?" "Would you rather I went without?" I smiled. "No," she sighed happily. "It is so you." I took that as asign to slip back in. I felt her fingernails run over the condom as I pressedforward. This time around, I let Brooke do all the work. I placed my torso ontoher back so I could worry her shoulders and neck (yes, I gave her a hickey) andfondled her breasts. "No fair," she whimpered. "No fair, I wanted you to, cumfirst." "I'm working as fast as I can," I huffed. Her fingers were strummingfuriously, I was picking up my pace, pounding her with growing ferocity, andher breath was coming in labored gasps. "No!" she howled as her climax gripped her. She bucked up once,twice, then a third time, holding herself tightly against me. "I'm cumming," I growled and I did. Brooke's groans became longer andlower. She wiggled her cute ass against me, urging out every spurt of my semeninto the condom. As I was pulling out of Brooke, she stopped me. "Wait, I want to try something," she told me. She turned around andwent to her knees. Brooke rolled off the condom and made deep, meaningful eye contact beforetilting her head back and draining the contents of my condom down her throat.Oh, that was so sexy. "Yummy," she gulped down my seed. "Wow, that was so, unforgettable," I stroked her cheek. "I've been reading some porn and wanted to try, oh, it has an aftertasteof spermicide. At least I think that is what it is," she snickered. "I wouldn't know," I shrugged. "Let me find out," she gave me more of that sultry eye-contact. Sheput her hand around my turgid phallus, stuck out her tongue then slipped itpast her lips. "No," it was my turn to moan. She was getting me hard again and I hada date I couldn't be late for. Maybe. The moment her gag reflex kicked in, Ipulled her up into a kiss. My hands cupped each ass cheek, I raised her overand impaled her in one rapid motion. Face to face, I began bouncing her hardand deep. {8:00 am} I wasn't late, but it was a close thing. I had arrived with three minutes tospare, only to find Hana and Libra waiting for me at Amy's Bread on 9th Avenue.Over some coffee and scones we soaked up the city's morning ambience. I was inmy biker clothes with my bike locked up within sight of the counter. "So," Libra started off after the initial hugs and kisses (Hana onthe lips, Libra on the cheek, no titty snuggle for me at the moment), "howwas dinner with Brooke last night?" I didn't believe Brooke had given anyone any details in the period betweensince we'd had our last round of high octane love-making at one a.m. and beforeI grabbed my shower, or the two quickies in the shower, or feeling her up atthe door. I had kissed her before leaving and she had been out like a light,naked and curled up with my pillow while resting her weary head on the other one.I had whispered a farewell to Casper, but not looked in. After that, I hadbiked over to Havenstone for my six o'clock firearm's practice. There, I had picked up my current minder, Juanita Leya Antonio Garza. She was amocha-skinned Dominican, twenty-nine years old and a brand-spanking new memberof the Isharan House Guard. She came to me by way of Havenstone's Buenos Aires'Acquisitions department. Juanita had earned her spot as my guardian byqualifying for that office's Rapid Response Team. (She had been good enough toqualify for that team's lead. Since there were not enough Security Detail(SD's) to staff all the satellite offices, the offices made do with teamstrained by the SD as part of their normal career training.) She had spent the past week as part of an ad-hoc training program addressinghow to bodyguard from on top a bicycle. (The SD had actually been planning thissince I had been kidnapped.) Juanita had been identified by Buffy and Halen asa Runner to be brought into House Ishara and she had a seal of approval fromboth Buffy and Rachel as a bodyguard, so I was more than willing to put up withan aggressive road buddy. "Entertaining," I grinned. "Definitely something we are going tohave to work on together next time." "Next time?" Hana regarded me studiously. "Was last night thatgood?" "We are not going to go there, Hana. I'm doing my best within my limitedCode of Sexual Misconduct. I'm trying to be discreet." "Hana," Libra added her voice, "when you first met Cáel, he wassimultaneously dating me and Brooke. At the same time he was also seeing thatpolice officer," "Nikita," I clarified, "and we are keeping it at the 'strictlyfriends' level right now." "I was hoping to have something more than just a part-time husband,"Hana stated softly. Hana wasn't whining. She was testing our boundaries, forthe long term control of my being. After all, wasn't that what marriage was allabout? "At this point in my life, I'm not that guy," I pushed back. Most ofthe women I'd been with hadn't been happy about sharing my attentions, oftenviolently so. Those who did found ways to emotionally blackmail me intospending more time with them. Up until now, that had never worked. "When I saw you with "I'm learning to like kids," I shrugged happily. "I neverthought I would, quite frankly. I wasn't called 'Captain Condom' fornothing." "I'm not on birth control," Hana enlightened me. Oh shit! "Good thing we are getting married," I joked feebly. "So, does "Would there be a problem with a boy?" Libra asked. "Not anymore," I guaranteed them both. "I couldn't," "Couldn't?" Hana requested what I had let slip. "What used to happen to Amazon boys?" Libra pressed. "Not something that I feel at liberty to discuss," I hedged. "That doesn't sound good," Libra mused. "Would our child be at risk if something happened to you?" Hanaworried. "No," I reached over and squeezed her hand. "There are plenty ofpeople that know how I feel and wouldn't let anything happen to mychildren," I didn't quite lie. Honestly I had never talked over suchthings, even with Buffy. Would my sons be okay? Would my daughters? I needed to reexamine my future plans, which is to say I needed a plan. "So how would we deal with your grandfather?" Hana redirected mythoughts. "Oh," I had been worried about my Amazons, not my family. "I will find a way to deal with Alal," I promised her. What abold-faced lie. I hadn't a clue how to counter the man yet. I was still playingcatch up with several thousand years of what he had already accomplished, muchless plumbed the depths of his future conspiracies. "You big liar," Hana smiled warmly. "That man has your number,even though you don't see it yet. We will have to work on somethingtogether." "I'll help," Libra offered. "That guy weirded me out." "He did?" I looked her way. I'd been good at avoiding ogling hercleavage for Hana's sake. "I wish I could clarify howIfeelabout him." "That man is evil," Hana insisted. "Don't you see that?" "It isn't that simple for me," I shook my head. "It is, I canget inside his head and figure out what motivates him, and sometimes it isscary. In a way, he's lost faith in humanity. His friends have all long sincedied and he has carried on alone. I get the bizarre sense he is even lookingforward to having something he's never had before, a family." "What about your, umm, aunts?" Libra challenged me. "They don't count because he," I couldn't say 'made them in a lab'."He never knew them as children, only after the fact and they have alwayslived in his shadow and under his control. This time, with me, us, things canbe different." "He doesn't deserve a family in my book," Hana shook her head."Not my family." I had to think about Katrina and Aya. How different was Katrina, who purposelysacrificed Aya to achieve her long term goals of screwing over the SevenPillars of Heaven? Aya would bear a permanent scar of that betrayal, andKatrina had an ironclad faith I would save us both, a faith I didn't have inmyself. I liked Katrina and even trusted her somewhat. Could I afford to feelthe same way about Grandpa Cáel? "Hana, I'm not looking to give you a sane reason for dumping me, but myfamily is more than a little fucked up," I began. "I have to face thefact that right now, I really can't stop Alal from doing what he wants. Thatdoesn't mean I accept the situation, yet it is what it is. When I have a chanceat putting him away, I'll take it and that decision goes beyond my family. Heneeds to be stopped. As you said 'he's evil'." "Will you let us help you?" Libra inquired. 'Yeah right, what can youdo versus a 5000 year old criminal mastermind' wasn't the appropriate thing tosay. The truth rarely is. "What would you suggest?" I did say. "Considering the resourcegulf between what we can bring to bear versus his legions of followers andunspeakable power, what chances do the three of us have?" "Is that a concession, insult, or genuine inquiry?" Hana questioned. "Genuine inquiry," I answered. "I hardly feel I know it all. Andthe more insight I can gather, the better my long-term chances are." "We can start by finding a way to get rid of my Irish 'minders',"Hana gave me a quirky grin. "They are very good at fitting seamlessly intothe background, but I can spot them." "Keep them around for a while, because all we can accomplish right now isgetting a few more we can't identify," I pointed out. "The GhostTigers?" "Oh, they are out and about," Libra snorted. "They stop by long enough in the morning to get my itinerary, then, Iguess they are out there somewhere," Hana told me. "A few times theyhave acted on my behalf, so I know they are close by, and that people really aretrying to kill me. But they work their way, and that includes not being seenwith me, it seems." "They are assassins, so I guess I should have expected that," Ishrugged. "Still, while they are on the job, you are safer than yourealize. None of the others ~ groups ~ will bother you while they know thosetwo are close by. It is two, right?" "I've seen two. A young woman and an older man," she elaborated. "They both come across as diligent sociopaths," Libra added."I've never seen them emit a single emotion, and they don't like my senseof humor." "I'd rather have you two alive than have them chucking at your innatecomedic talents, Libra," I smirked. "Besides, the things they findfunny you might not appreciate." "Good point," Hana nodded. "Some of the Great Khan's peoplecertainly have an odd sense of humor, things that don't translate overwell." I had an alternative to telling what I knew about the Earth & Sky and whythey were so grim: that they saw their father's lifetimes, their own and that oftheir children filled with warfare and struggle. They were geographicallytrapped between two of the world's greatest powers ~ Russia and China. At best,they had been pawns in the Great Game and even independence had not broughtforth a promise of hope. Too many of their kin remained prisoners in otherlands. No, I really had an out, and I took it, like the big coward that I am. "Casper's sense of humor is coming along well," I sighed. "Shelooked somewhat at ease last night. Her salad was the highlight of themeal." Libra looked out the window while Hana looked down at her plate. Libra had notbeen as good a friend to the girl as Brooke had been. For Hana, it was the painher father had gone through over her half-brother's death. As I had predicted, it brought our breakfast to a somber close. Hugs, kissesand I/we were off to the office. Juanita tapped me at a stoplight. ImmediatelyI looked for a possible tail. "What did you say at the end of breakfast?" she asked. "Whateverit was, it went over like finding a severed head in your luggage." "Someday I will have to tell you about a girl named Casper." She mulled that over. "I know about Casper Winslow," she confessed. "You did the rightthing. Some people," "Doing the 'right' thing doesn't mean I did something that caused theleast pain. I'll live with what others did at my behest, but I'll nevercelebrate it," I looked her way. "They were right," she nodded. "You are complicated." I took that wonderful assessment into the office. (JIKIT 2:00 pm Friday) Any great teacher, or professor, can teach you lessons that you carry throughyour later life. They open up your eyes to ways of thinking and to ideas thatchange who you are as a person. It should never be forgotten though, that thoselessons are learned through the lenses of the scholar. It was that way with thememories of Alal in my head. I wasn't reading the Book of Alal. I wasexperiencing things he had experienced, colored by his perceptions at the time. At one time, Alal had been a man of great superstition and faith. Over time,his belief in higher powers had soured into a hatred of all things divine and acontempt for those who devoted themselves to otherworldly powers. He wasn't anatheist. He acknowledged that there were things beyond the normal senses ofmankind, yet denied they were anything but selfish and precocious. So, when I was talking strategy with the likes of Addison and Lady Fathom, Ihad to remember whose advice I was taking. I also had to take into account theinvisible hand of the supernatural beings he despised. Temujin was a mortal manwith an immortal pedigree. That gave him an outlook like Alal's, in that hethought long term. It was more than a five- or ten-year plan. It was the surefire belief that ifthis generation failed to do something right, the stage could be set for thenext generation, or the next. It also effected how he viewed allies andenemies. For the Mongol-Turkish civilization, only the Han were sworn enemies.One could not be powerful while the other was. Outside of that, everyone had a choice. Too often, you only got one chance atbeing on a friendly basis. And all other enemieswouldbedealt with in time. That wasn't an overly rational world view, but it wasTemujin's and it infected the upper echelon of the Earth & Sky. JIKIT'sproblem was getting our respective governments to see things that way. In the Post-Cold War, nations had squabbles and disagreements. Today'sbelligerent was tomorrow's regional bulwark. The Khanate didn't think that way.India had gained an ally that would be multi-generational. Pakistan and Iranwere running in the other direction, and that meant the Horde would eventuallycome calling. The original Khanate of the thirteenth century had been a multi-cultural,multi-ethnic conglomerate. Turks, Persians, Russians and Tibetans were allpresent in that Mongol court. Power resided in the powerful Mongol clans, buttheir subject peoples wielded real power as well. In the end, it was theMongols who tore their empire apart. And as it fractured, the parts then madewar on one another, or so Alal remembered. It was that 'lenses' thing oncemore. Alal admired the original Temujin and his successors ~ (Thailand and the Three K's) A wise television character once said, 'the avalanche has already started;it is too late for the pebbles to vote'. The avalanche had already startedin Asia, but a few pebbles still insisted on voting, with their feet. For thatmatter, four 'peoples' were voting with their feet and with their firearms.They were the Karen, the Karenni, and more important to us at the moment, theKachin groups in Myanmar plus the average working man/woman in Thailand. The first three groups were involved in a long-running ethnic civil war withMyanmar, and were losing. For the Karenni and Karen, there was always therefuge offered by the Thai border, behind which refugee camps had sprung up.Also, since those two ethnic groups controlled the overland land routes betweenMyanmar and Thailand, they had access to a small amount of 'self-financing'. The Kachin had no such luck. They were stuck in the northeastern part of thecountry with their back to Yunnan province in China, except the PRC didn'tcontrol Yunnan anymore, the Khanate did (it was their overland accessibility tothe Republic of Vietnam.) No one much cared about the Kachin either, except theDali Lama who, now that Tibet was free, began concentrating on gathering aidfor his people abroad and bringing to light the conveniently forgottenhumanitarian disasters around the globe.
"Ah, this is never going to get old," Brooke moaned. She punctuatedher statement by rolling her hips back and forth. In the interlude, I cut offthe water so it would cease to be a distraction. Then my hands went to her hipsand the rhythm began. It was a slow steady wave-like motion.
Then the Army of Myanmarlaunched a campaign to push the Kachin resistance off its last legs and intothe grave. The Kachin had fled over the border to China in the past, and theChinese had always sent them home to be subjected to the blood-stained hands ofthe Burmese. When August 14th rolled around, the Burmese offensive was in fullswing and once more the Kachin were fleeing north into China, only this time,they walked right into the path of a Khanate mobile patrol heading south. 'Why are you here in our territory?' the Khanate leader asked thru his localtranslator. He was the commander of aZuuns~ 100 men (nowslightly reduced) but the Khanate military prided itself on initiative amongits non-commissioned and junior officers. 'We are being slaughtered in our homeland,' the people wailed. 'Well, we don't have the resources to take care of you here.' 'Please don't send us back. We will be raped, tortured and even murdered.' And since that commander had been told to ally with the local ethnic minoritiesin this part of Yunnan (who also happened to be kinsmen of these Kachin), heshowed his initiative. "I'll go down the road and talk to these Myanmartroops so they will stop attacking you until ourTumenscommandercan work something out ~ say mediate a cession of hostilities", he toldthem. And off he went. A roving Myanmar helicopter saw a light armored column rolling south in themiddle of a stream of Kachin heading north. The pilot assumed they had crossedthe border, so he attacked. The helicopter had the misfortune to kill one ofthe 86 remaining Khanate troopers. As he wheeled around for a second pass, aKhanate soldier wielding a 9K333 Verba SAM blasted him out of the sky. Even as it died, the helicopter was being told that a Khanate column was comingdown the valley to exchange bona fides with the Myanmar commander. Since bothsides were conversing in Cantonese, there were definitely confusingcommunication issues going on: Myanmar commander: 'Be careful, we have a helicopter in the area.' Khanate commander: 'We are aware of that. It killed one of my men.' Myanmar commander: 'Where is our helicopter now?' Khanate commander: 'There seems to be a misunderstanding. You killed one of mymen.' In modern English slang ~ 'It is so on!' Before rolling down into the valley, destroying one mobile column of Myanmarlight infantry and then annihilating the closest town garrison, the Khanatecommander called up some air support. Amidst the ground carnage, the sixKhanate Mig-35's escorting twelve S U-25MS's jumped four Myanmar Mig-29's,shooting down three of them. By midnight, the tiny Khanate force had retreated back over the border, leavingthe Burmese wondering when the Khanate would come stampeding south in evengreater numbers. The next morning the Khanate Commander of a Thousand explained to his Myanmarcounterpart that this matter was settled, unless he wanted to take it anotherstep. For both sides, the announcement of an upcoming truce between the Khanateand the PRC hung heavy in the air. Myanmar opted to forget the issue and theoutside world was unaware how close the two came to war. No one gave the Kachin the memo. They immediately came, hat in hand, to the Khanate'sYunnan provincial commander, who was looking for a way to not get squeezedbetween a hostile PRC and Burma, and he had plenty of former People'sLiberation Army equipment he'd just taken from disarmed Chinese troops lyingaround. So he gave the Kachin a few thousand assault rifles, grenade launchers,SAM's and mortars, plus some men to train them in how to use said weapons andin 'proper' insurgency tactics, some of which was 'on the job' training. Now why would that mean anything to anyone at JIKIT? Recall the other two K's?They both bordered Thailand and on August 26th, massive 'Red Shirt' (not thename I would have chosen for a pro-democracy movement) protests broke out insome of the country's largest cities and towns. There were strikes and workstoppages. The country was on the verge of grinding to a halt. Late on the 29th, the regime's military began violently crushing theopposition. Hundreds died in the streets. What few understood was that themajority of the military leadership came from the populous Eastern District,which bred some resentment in the other's commands. Early on August 30th(Thailand was a day ahead NYC), someone killed the commander of the Royal ThaiThird Army. His Chief of Staff took over and immediately declared his supportfor the 'Red Shirts'. Why did this matter? Several thousand Karen and Karenni fighters joined with the 3rd Army theaterleadership in hopes that a democratic regime would take a hard line stanceagainst Myanmar's (almost a dictatorship) junta and support their ideas forindependent states. These highly trained veteran fighters were desperatelyneeded by the Thai rebels. Still, why would most of us care? To add to the confusion, the battle in Thailand wasn't even about democracy.The various General-Princes were jockeying for power and the Red Shirts weregiving the players with less power a way to express greater influence. Thecurrent'dictator/President-for-Life/Prime Minister by Popular Acclaim',Prayut Chan-o-cha, had taken over a few weeks earlier, using his hand-pickedlegislature who were part of the new Constitution he had created. He had left his rivals out in the cold with little to show for their pastloyalty when, as Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Thai Army, he had launched hissurprise coup in May. In June, he had created a new Constitution which gave himvirtual control of every aspect of the country's life. On the 24th of August,he was unanimously appointed Prime Minister. He was now leader of the Army, theonly allowed political party and the country's governmental apparatus. Threefor three. The new Prime Minister had been rounding up dissenters and officers who opposedthe coup. His surviving enemies hadn't waited for their time to come. They tookto the streets in large, if disorganized mobs. Still, until the Third Armyswitched sides, these down-trodden citizens had no real chance to createchange. The military had been a tightly organized, unified body and the army'ssize was up to the task of controlling the populous. Now an actual civil warwas in the offing. Most people couldn't tell you what the ten nations of Southeast Asia were, muchless where they were. The odds of knowing how democratic or how corrupt theywere was even more unlikely. Suffice it to say, the countries at the bottom ofthe heap were Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos, though Myanmar was in the same pack.So the fun geopolitical part was, the Black Lotus wanted the autocratic Khanateto ask their ally Vietnam to put pressure on their neighbors (Laos and Cambodia)to support the pro-democracy side, i.e., the most repressive regimes supportingthe cause of freedom (in someone else's country). To add to the bizarre, the world's leading democracy, the United States, waspressing for calm, which would doom the pro-democracy side. The US wassupported by the PRC (People's Republic of China), Russia, Malaysia andMyanmar. The World's largest democracy, India, was supporting the Red Shirts.The other regional entities (big Indonesia and tiny Brunei and Singapore) weresitting on the sidelines. The rest of the world? The European Union wanted the UN to put forth acease-fire and have the differing sides to sit down together. The government ofThailand wasn't going for any intervention impinging their sovereignty, becausethey couldn't see the world of hurt that would be coming down the pipeline.Prayut Chan-o-cha was thinking he was still in pre-Khanate Asia. At worst,Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos would send terse letters and withdraw theirambassadors for consultations at home. Vietnam and the Khanate (by way of JIKIT) were thinkinginvasionwitha blitzkrieg before the rest of the world could slap down some sanctions hardenough to hurt. All they had to do was lure the Royal Thai First and SecondArmies into a climactic encounter, crush them, then set up free, UN-sanctionedelections. Would this foster true democracy? I hoped so, yet I had theimpression no one else (except for Rikki maybe) was thinking along the samelines. Addison and Lady Yum-Yum told me upfront that they didn't give a fuck. All theycared about was that the new Thailand would be a regional ally for the Khanate,and thus Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. It was harsh, global reality setting in.Laos and Cambodia had anemic economies and weak militaries, while Thailand hada strong manufacturing economy and a powerful army. Vietnam's military wasbigger, but didn't share a border with Thailand. When the war with China brokeout again, the Khanate would need its southeastern flank and Vietnam to besafe. To do this meant regime change. Neither Vietnam, India, nor the Khanate wereready to intervene in Thailand, yet they had to act while the iron was hot.That meant going with what they had handy passing over the less than stellarroad and river networks through Laos and Cambodia. They would be fighting a waralong a very fragile logistical train, so they needed to win decisively andfast. An answer to this problem was the sea, the Gulf of Thailand to beprecise. The Thai Navy was more powerful than the Vietnamese Navy to the point whereVietnam's option to arrive by or be supplied by sea was virtually non-existent,so the Indian Navy was finally going to have to get their hands dirty, except Ilove and hate that word, the Royal Thai naval commanders might not want theirbiggest bargaining chip ~ the size of their navy ~ committed to a risky battleat sea. The Third Army wasn't alone in its stand either. Given the opportunity to stayneutral, the Fourth Army and Royal Thai Air Force were both pledging to stay onthe sidelines. That still left the Third Army in an uneven struggle. The Firstand Second Army were both individually larger, except they sat over a restive,repressed civilian populace who now had a trickle of military hardware comingtheir way. The world would react to the invasion, there was no doubt. The problem was:there wasn't much to respond with actually in the military theater. Pro-PRCMyanmar had a house full of internal problems, plus they had border issues withIndia (~ 'just because' ~) and with Bangladesh, who was supporting the Muslimminority in the west of the country that the Myanmar government was alsooppressing. Myanmar had more problems than any other country I'd ever heard of,oh, and they thought their military junta ruled by popular consent. With theirpredilection to shoot dissidents, I could see how they won that opinion poll. Malaysia could attempt to intervene, but they would be mobilizing against theneutral Fourth Army, unless they wanted to risk the sea approaches as well andtheir navy was in no way up to challenging the Indians either. The US didn'tappear to have the will. The PRC wouldn't want to anger the Khanate this sooninto the cease-fire. This wasn't Russia's fight, so all she would do was sendwords. Besides, she despised the U S, U N and E U for all the sanctions she wassuffering through because of the 'problems' in the Ukraine. Yet again, this was on the far side of the globe so why would we care? Howcould we make any of the key players give a damn? It was all about the Benjamin's. See, there were plans on the drawing board fora canal traversing Thailand's Kra Isthmus, connecting India's Andaman Sea tothe Gulf of Thailand, which would greatly shorten the distance for sea tradefrom India to the rest of Southeast Asia. If a Thai-Indian consortiumcontrolled that canal, it would be worth untold billions for both thosenations. Such trade routes would put Vietnam much closer to the global marketplace, further boosting their economy (as well as Cambodia's). It took myAlal-mind just over three hours to figure all that out. Much to my continuous chagrin, young men and women would be dying to make ahandful of rich entities richer. It was sometimes difficult for me tounderstand that most noble fights happened amid the dim perceptions of politesocieties. In practical terms, brothers fought for brothers, their families andclans ~ be they tribes, battalions, or unnamed fraternities. Compared to theelected technocrats that ruled, I was finding myself drawn to the starklybrutal organizations most like my Amazons. Many of the women who had voted me into a lifetime of slavery were chomping atthe bit to join their sisters in this urgent struggle I had brought about. Istill knew I should hate them. I also prayed for their success because it waswhat we all so desperately needed. My children's lives were on the line. Allour children's lives were on the line and in that, we were united in bondscloser than blood. After gifting JIKIT with my insights, Lady Yum-Yum's first response was to callsome 'friends' in some of the larger news outlets in Great Britain to make surethey could splash the pro-democracy crackdown as the lead story/front page newsbecause, the Khanate was going to assure Thai independence the same way theyhad made sure democracy reigned in Tibet ~just like Tibetwasthe theme. That was for the Thai populous as well as for foreign consumption.The Khanate would come, then go. Khanate armed forces? Four wholeTumensand a 120 combataircraft were sitting in Yunnan. They could be riding trains through Vietnam'srather dysfunctional railways on their way to the Cambodian/Laotian/Thaiborder. 'Was this for real?' the newsies wondered. Was Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke a member of the shadowy JIKIT, which may/maynot have been something more than a mere research body? Should those news outlets put their people on the streets of Bangkok? Should they hire some stringers? Yes and yes, and she could also imbed them with the Khanate troops closest tothe future conflict, maybe with the military mission to Vietnam itself. No onehad been on point with the Khanate military machine before; and being in thefront lines with the rawest footage was what the 24/7 was all about. I must have looked pretty stunned at her audacity, because she patted me on thehead like a prized Irish Setter. The moment she finished her fifth phone call,Addison confronted me with a similar list of news agencies that wouldneeda favor for a favor. She knew less people, which at least meantfewer requests I had to make of Iskender. All the women around me were happy, my co-workers insisted I was doing afantastic job and people in powerful places thought I was doing the world agreat service. The only way I could have been happier was if I reallyunderstood what I was doing, or we had a bathing suit attire dress code, thatwould have been pretty cool too. (... and she brought a spear) I left work early. I had this sneaking suspicion that yet more people aroundthe globe were going to die and I had advance notice of this calamity and coulddo nothing to stop it. I could tell myself that people had been, were, andwould be trying to kill one another with no help from me. That didn't assuagemy guilt much, so I decided that I could extinguish some of my self-pity bygoing to the Full-Blooded gym and convincing someone to kick my ass. I imagined I would have plenty of takers. Despite the opinions of Pamela,Katrina and Rachel, I was still largely a pariah, and unwelcomed intruderfoisted upon them by forces they could not question, their Ancestors. The factthat I was dragging that jumped-up Runner, Juanita Ishara, along with me onlyadded insult to their injury. It definitely didn't help that Juanita didn't take guff from anyone. Sure, theHouse Amazons were warriors trained from a tender age to be lethal killingmachines, but Juanita was the baddest of the bad, the hardest, fastest and mostdetermined of the roughly 20,000 Runners that existed alongside the Host. Shedidn't resent the House Amazons because that would have been counterproductiveto her survival. Also, before I came along, she knew she had virtually nochance of joining their exclusive club. Now that she was a 'House Amazon', she absolutely insisted that she be treatedlike one and woe to the fool who chose to deny her that hard won right. To addto the unpleasantness, she had the 'Buffy-ist' ideal that no one coulddisrespect me in the slightest. I tried to take my chiding in good humor.Juanita was having none of that. Ten minutes into my stress-relieving workout,Juanita called out some dingbat to the mat. I could have let her go alone and be gang-jumped. That would have been unfairto her and something Buffy would take me to task over, once it was all said anddone. So in I went, and when two Amazons joined the first opponent, Iblindsided them. It was the Amazon thing to do. I didn't get to enjoy myvictory because my intervention was the cue for the grand pummeling to begin. Letting us both be beaten black and blue made no sense. I grabbed Juanita bythe waist and hurdled her into two others, spilling all three off the mat (andout of play). "Stay!" I commanded, pointing my finger at Juanita. I wasn't going tohave her sense of outrage spoil my selfless gesture. Into this eye of the storm a calm settled. It dawned on my twelve assailantsthat what they were doing looked bad even by Amazon battle-ethics. TwelveAmazons to beat up one male? That was hardly the conservation of resources theypracticed. They were trying to juggle down their numbers when someone decidedto help them along in the decision-making process. They had numbers. She brought a spear, plus she was one of the five scariestcombatants I had ever encountered. I would have been happy if it was Pamela, orSaku (maybe), I would have been highly suspicious if it was Saint Marie, theGolden Mare andde factoleader of the Host. If it had beenAlal, I would have been horrified (that Havenstone security had been so fatallycompromised). No, I got number five, which left me both somewhat elated (I liked watching herfight) and somewhat confused (she was normally kicking my ass). It was Elsa,and none of the others could stand against her. Soon we had cleared the mats,partially out of skill and mostly out of fear (of Elsa). "Good to see you again," I tested the waters. "I wish to be alone with Ish, Wakko Ishara," Elsa announced. OnlyJuanita hung around. Since I doubted they had actually met before, "Elsa, I've never asked you what your house was," I struggled throughthe introductions. "This is Juanita Ishara, of the Isharan House Guard.Juanita, this is Elsa, commander of the SD (Security Detail) inHavenstone." "It is Elsa Zorja," she clarified. "It is normal protocol to notinquire into the house of a member of the SD, as we stand outside the Housepolitical structure." Zorja was the Slavic amalgam of the Two Guardians ~ the Morning and Eveningstars. I hoped it didn't mean the whole group was bi-polar aka Super-Bitchy andSuper-Bitchy Possessive. That would be unfortunate for Yours Truly. "I know who she is. She is on our 'Must Watch' List," Juanitastated. "We have a 'Must Watch' List? How come this is the first I've heardof it?" I questioned. "Buffy has made a roster ~ a rather long roster ~ of people we can't trustto be alone with you," she explained. "You mean it is an anti-girlfriend list," I protested. "This isnot happening, no way, no how." "And, if you wish to defy the list you have to take it up with Buffy, inperson. Phone calls and e-mails won't do," Juanita finished. "What about Facebook? Twitter?" That didn't warrant a response.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Tadifi’s legend
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected. Meanwhile, Elsa was quietly amused. It wasn't like I could request the SD toforce my House Guard to not do something they had been told to do by someone inmy hierarchy. That would lead to chaos, and it was unfair to Juanita. "Fine," I decided. "Get us three some water. Elsa and I will bepracticing." Now Juanita was stuck. I wasn't asking her to leave the room, just leave mealone. I was technically her leader, respect notwithstanding. "It is good to see you have not become drunk with power," Elsasmirked once Juanita had left on her errand. "Your mockery is unappreciated," I glared back. I was only kidding."I haven't seen you around recently. It is good to see you." "It is good to see you too," Elsa said in a voice far softer andcompassionate than I would have preferred. After all, she had me drugged,beaten, then beaten me up again in the not so distant past. Of course, I had also sexed her up, bringing her to orgasm with my fingersalone. We had also exchanged a burning French kiss in Katrina's office thatBuffy was aware of. Then there was the Buffy-Elsa personal feud and theElsa-Rhada family feud. Balancing that was Elsa's super-hot body and intriguingpersonality. Sex with her promised to be memorable, more memorable than normal. "What have you been up to? I'd like to say I've been behaving myself, butI don't want to advance our relationship by lying (right now, aboutthis)." "You are largely responsible for what I've been up to the past twoweeks," she stepped back. She tossed her spear aside and entered herfighting stance. How nice of her to warn me, and get rid of her weapon. Howerotically odd of her to give me the illusion of a chance. "I deny everything," I rocked back. She was blindingly fast. The factthat I was able to block most of the blow was a testament to how much I hadlearned in the past two and a half months. "Watashi wa nihongo o hanashimasu', 'Wǒ shuō pǔtōnghu "Wait," then she kicked me off the mat. "Amazons don't have a 'time out'," she smiled. I cautiously worked myway back onto the practice area. "What part did you play?" I readied myself. This time, I went on theoffensive. I used my greater strength and reach to compensate (rather poorly)for her superior reflexes. "Someone had to ride herd on those disparate forces. My status wasrespected by the Amazons, I had experience dealing with outsiders, plus yourperson Addison nominated me, and Katrina suggested that you and I were close.That was enough for the Khanate. Your embassy and earlier aid to the SevenFamilies brought the 9 Clans along." "And you stole the carrier?" "It was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to humiliate the SevenPillars," she grinned. "Riding in a nuclear submarine wasinteresting, right up there with running around, spray painting translationsnext to all the markings onboard the captured vessel. Herding regular civilianswasn't nearly as much fun." "In the annals of the SD, that is going to be a victory hard tosurpass," I got out right before my legs were swept out from under me.Before I could roll over, she landed on top of me. She didn't go for a pin.Elsa simply sat there, straddling my hips and looking down at me. We were bothbreathing heavily. "I owe you for that," she patted me on my bare chest. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" "I'll let you figure that out during the Great Hunt," she gave asliver of a smile. "Not you too," I groaned. "Who else are you worried about?" "You and twenty-nine other Amazons. By name, Rachel. She's pretty upbeatabout her chances and believes she has a score to settle." "Rachel will be a tough one," Elsa acknowledged. "Comfortable?" Juanita muttered. "Yes, I am," Elsa grinned her way. "Thank you for asking."Juanita gave me a look that suggested I do something like protest, or actuallytry to fight her off. "Why are you being nice to me?" I wondered. "I've learned to appreciate your numerous qualities," Elsaenlightened me. "I am also honest enough to admit I was completely wrongabout you. You make a good Amazon." That was huge praise indeed and moreimportantly, it was to a public audience. I was double fortunate that no onewas close enough to see Elsa's camel toe resting against my lightly coveredhard-on. "Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?" "Aren't you engaged to someone?" Juanita reminded me. What she wasreally saying was 'don't you know you belong to the maidens of House Ishara?'Trust me, I know these things. Had she meant Hana, she would have said Hana. "She has the patience of Job," I reasoned. "Oh, Elsa, Job is afigure in the Old Testament of the Bible." I doubted she knew. "Oh. Is he a bloody-handed butcher, raging misogynist, or one of thosepacifistic wimps?" "He's a nice guy who gets swallowed by a whale." "That's Jonah," Juanita corrected me. "Job is the one who wastested by God. Job accepted God taking away all his family, wealth and health,only to be rewarded for his loyalty to God with more than he ever hadbefore." "Wimp." "I would never turn away from Ishara," Juanita rumbled. "Zorja would never feel the need to test my loyalty so," Elsariposted. "Oh look," I thrust my hips up. "I seem to need a shower."Elsa's expression was of superiority and lust combined into a lethal cocktailof my demise. "Let's go. You can wash my back," she said as she rose over me. Sheeven offered me a hand up. That was unexpected and accepted warily. "Is there some battle wound that makes you incapable of bathingyourself?" Juanita got feisty. Holy Hell, she was my Caribbean Buffy-twin. "None," Elsa smugly commented. "I like the feel of his hands onmy body. He possesses non-threatening masculinity wed with sisterly solidarity.It is a unique experience that you seem woefully unaware of." "Yippee!" I whispered. "You really are a man-whore," Juanita declared under her breath. "Check," I gave her a thumbs-up. Sadly, Elsa gave me enough respectto walk at my side, not in front of me (so I could have been mesmerized by herbuttocks.) As I was stripping down in the locker room, I noticed Juanitahovering close by. "Are you going to follow me into the shower?" "Yes." "Why? I am not going to be in danger in the middle of Havenstone." "I'll be the judge of that," she insisted. "You do realize I've had sex with an audience before, don't you?" "I've been warned about that and know proper counter-measures." "What? What kind of measures?" I was now naked and, towel in hand,was making my way to the communal showers. "Charlie horses, trips, stun-gun if applicable," she informed me withrelish. "You are threatening to damage my prestige," I enlightened her. "Cáel, I was chosen for more than my martial skills. I was selectedbecause I will not wilt before your childish ways." "Are you a lesbian?" "No. Why would a woman have to be a lesbian to withstand your wiles?" "You'll figure it out eventually," I chuckled. Actually, knowing whata playboy-cad I was turned out to be a counter-intuitive edge for me. Expectingme to be a letch just meant I totally ignored the woman. Then the doubt wouldset in. 'Why wasn't I hitting on her?' she would think. She'd go throughthe phase of her not being good enough for me to knowing that wasn't the case,definitely, and would come at me to prove herself right. Wham-bam, another onein the can. Oink. Step One: reduce the amount of time talking to her as a fellow human travelerof life. From here on out, I would address her by her name when I wantedsomething and otherwise treat her like furniture ~ furniture I was comfortablewith. In this case, I treated her like a towel rack. She promptly dropped it.That was okay, I was planning to get dressed wet anyway. I rinsed off my hair quickly as Elsa settled underneath the showerhead besideme. As soon as I finished, she handled me a bottle of (scentless) body soap. Itwas probably one of thosethe jaguar will smell me coming ten milesawayexcuses Amazons used to avoid being girlie. I got my hands allsudsy and began working on her shoulders and neck from behind. Wordlessly, Elsa followed my physical directions, allowing me to wash her armsbefore working my way down her back in languid, amorous circles. Around the10th thoracic vertebrae, Elsa gave me a deep, cleansing exhalation. I dug myfingers into her taut back muscles, racking them down to her buttocks, deftlyran them along the sides of her glutes and finished up caressing them along theline between her thighs and ass. I worked her buttocks apart, worked my fingers along her perineum, tickling theback of her labia then up, across her anus and back to her tailbone and thesmall of her back. A crazy idea came to me:maybe I could talk her intoa tramp stamp; something likeIf you are reading this, know I'll killyou next. That would be so Elsa. I lathered her ass up for another half-minute before working my way down to herthighs, starting with the hip joints and then coaxing of her parted lips. Iknelt down so that I was resting on the balls of my feet. Elsa obliged me byparting her legs, standing on her toes with her feet over a foot apart, thenplacing her hands against the shower stall while arching her back so that herhips were thrust back. "Oh, come on," Juanita protested. "What kind of bath isthis?" "Did you hear something?" Elsa looked down at me. "Nope. I was focusing all of my attention on you," I smiled up ather. I was really liking the way her muscles were stressed through herexertions. I couldn't seem to pay enough attention to her robust calves. Ididn't pass up the opportunity to plant gentle kisses on each cheek either. Elsa's ankles and feet happened all too fast and the pretense of a bath wascomplete. She looked at me while she soaped up her breasts then let the watercascade all over her body. "Thank you, Cáel," she gave me a regal nod of her damp head, turnedand left. "Train harder for the Hunt. You are going to need every edge youcan get." "I'm stalking oysters over the weekend. They are cunning and stealthyadversaries," I replied sagely. Elsa snorted, then started toweling off asshe left, going toward her own locker. I walked past my soaked towel on thefloor without a single glance. Juanita stalked behind me, clearly with a lot onher mind she was now waiting for the proper moment to share. I got dressed. "Not going to dry off?" she grumbled. "I never use towels," I lied. "I like the rain-washedfeel." By ignoring her act of defiance, I really steamed her. I wasn'tdone. As we headed toward the elevator, I opened up with my next jibe. Buffyreally shouldn't challenge me so. I'm a past-master of dealing with clingy,bossy women. "Regretting you made that bet?" I mused while we waited. "What bet?" she simmered. "The bet where you assured Buffy and whomever else was in the room thatyou wouldn't break down and physically harm me ~ punishing me for my wicked ways?" "What? How did," she groused then, "You are playing me." "Yep." "You really are full of yourself," she seared me with her gaze. "No, but I know what I'm good at and I'm good at frustrating women. I'vebeen working at it for the past four years and I've got over 200 women whowould agree that I'm very good at doing it." "Why are you doing this to me? I'm on your side," she turned allpouty and hurtful. "Because if I don't, I'll go mad, Juanita," I enlightened her."You want to protect me, right?" "Yes," she sensed a verbal trap. The elevator opened and we steppedin. "See, I don't want to be protected," I started. "That's," "Let me finish, please," I stopped her. She gave me the visual'go-ahead'. "I don't want to live a life where I need to be protected. Idon't want to worry that women I hang out with could be cornered by someunsavory types at an eatery because those women happen to know and likeme." "I admire what you are doing, I really do. This is not the life I wanted,though. This is not what I wanted to be doing four months after leavingcollege. I wanted to be some corporate worm, barely scraping by on my workreviews and being, as you said, 'a man-whore'." "You don't have that luxury," she pointed out. "Am I not doing my job?" I countered. "I guess you are," she grudgingly admitted. "Yet you feel you have the right to critique my personal life and how Iapproach it," I related. "I'm not beating you up by playing theIam Isharabullshit. I certainly don't expect anyone to be grateful tome for the opportunity to be in a House. I don't because I believe that everymember of House Ishara has already proven they belong here before I ever meetthem. I believe in you. Sometimes I would appreciate it if my sisters wouldgive me the same respect." She looked away because my harpoon had struck home. "Unlike the rest of you, I inherited my place in this madhouse. Unlikeevery other Amazon here, I am only a part of House Ishara because I am thechoice of a thousand ancestors to be our leader. Notice that no one asked me ifI wanted to do this. And I don't think I ask too much of you because frankly,there are times when I feel unworthy to be in your company." "You are still Ishara and I must still be your guardian," she heldher ground. I glared at her. She glared back. I coughed. She kept glaring. "What's my name?" "Oh," she shrugged. "Cáel Wakko Ishara." "That may sound silly you to, but I have chosen the designations formyself, my First Ancestor and the Goddess for a good reason." We rode in silence. When we got to the ground floor, we made our way to ourbikes and got ready to head home. "What is the reason?" "To never take ourselves too seriously. The worst thing I can think tobefall my House is we become as humorless as the rest of the bitches aroundhere. 'Laugh at Death' should be our motto." "Isn't that a bit childish?" "Of course it is," I groaned. "You clearly haven't been payingattention to a damn thing I've been saying. I swear I'm thinking about bringingback 'National Clown Nose Day'." "We had a 'National Clown Nose Day'?" she pedaled to keep up. "God help me," I muttered. (Where is my Serge?) "You are not going to let me go through my door first?" I sighed inexasperation. Juanita insisted that she go through every door first, becausetoday was so very different than yesterday, when I had Pamela, perhaps Iprotest too much. "You have a gun," a somewhat familiar voice said from insidemy/Timothy's apartment. Oh, fuck. Ya know, because Juanita was as pretty as shewas lethal, which is to say 'too much for the given company'. "Don't make any sudden moves unless you want to see it," Juanitacautioned her. "Oh, it's okay," Odette intervened. "This is Anais Saint-Armour.She's a Mountie." "Oh, she's on the List too," Juanita grumbled. "What has he donewrong this time?" "Why don't you tell me who you are first?" Anais growled at Juanitawhile I pushed my way into the room. "I don't like your attitude," Juanita glared. "Anais, this is Juanita Leya Antonio Garza; she's my latest bodyguard.Juanita, this is Anais, a good friend of mine who helped save my life inHungary when the 'terrorists' were closing in," I somewhat exaggerated,,she had helped me catch up with the rest of the team when Pamela and I got sidetracked. "Why did he chose you?" Anais fumed. Did I mention she's insanelyjealous with an aching need to know why I was marrying anyone else, but her. "What list?" Odette proved to be on the ball. "He didn't chose me. I volunteered for the spot." "Buffy made an anti-girlfriend list. Elsa is on it too," I mumbled. "I bet you did," Anais (responding to Juanita). "It is not like that," I moved to interpose myself between my Mountieand my non-mounted (for now) guardian. "I'm on the board of directors forHavenstone now and," "How did that happen?" Anais turned 'The Force' on me. (That'sCanadian for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, really) "You insisted(reference back in the days we were seeing one another) you wereimpoverished." "I inherited it from my Father," "He's poor too. I ran a background check when we first starteddating," Anais kept up the pressure. "My Mother?" "She's dead." "Okay, it was my Father through a convoluted meandering of genetics,"I went back to attempting the truth (shame on me). "Which is it?" she glowered. "My Father, but it's too complicated to get into now," I tried totouch her. She recoiled. She was still pissed with me. "He's telling the truth this time," Odette rose to my defense. "Why didn't you tell me this when you were in Hungary? For that matter, ifyou are rich, why didn't you use those resources to get yourself out of troubleinstead of involving me?" She really was a great cop. "I had to make a call to someone I trusted and who couldn't be traced backto me, or Havenstone, or the Irish Embassy," I fibbed. "What have you gotten yourself into?" Anais thawed somewhat. "I believe I promised you dinner," I reminded her. "You did." "Where are we going?" Juanita stressed our lack of privacy. "'We' aren't going anywhere. Ms. Anais Saint-Armour and I are going to arestaurant of her choosing. Don't worry about it. She carries a gun." "I'm not carrying a gun," Anais torpedoed my plan. "Where are we going?" Juanita repeated herself. I had to switchmental gears quickly to take in the new looks I was getting from Anais. Ishouldn't have ignored those cues. "I can't get around my personal security service," I sighed. Why didI give in? Anais was all about gathering evidence and then drawing conclusionsfrom the facts in available. Ihadbeen involved in some significant bad-assery in Europethat was way beyond anything she would have associated with the old me.Terrorist cells duking it out with me (and others) in a Budapest metro station?A rustic inn being reduced to ashes after a suspected firefight? Bomb threats?A full-scale military operation in Romania? Ihadbeen kidnapped with a resultant massive manhunt for methen returned under highly mysterious circumstances. There had been a younggirl with me, we were close for reasons not really gone into and I had savedher despite all forms of parenthood had been anathema to me. Iwasa man who others deemed necessary to protect, thus a manmaking secretive phone calls, getting snippets of information and being involvedin the deaths of way too many people to be the old, playboy me. Who had Ibecome? I thereforemight bea man who 'needed' to marry abillionairess due to some unspeakable political reasons, not out of anyromantic/sexual desire of my own. Anais knew that I was a commitment-phobe, nota gold-digger. That meant she could be involved with me without it really beingcheating. I needed her help, I had reached out to her when I was in crisis andshe was in the people-helping business, right? There was clearly more evidence out there for her to discover and she had thegood fortune to be able to have me in a spot where I could be interrogated. "Where do you want to go?" I disengaged and went to my room. The doorwas only partially shut as I changed. "Eleven Madison West," I was told. "Oh," Odette cooed, "that place is expensive." "I know," Anais remarked. "Why did you pick it?" Odette inquired. "To remind Cáel that meals can be very expensive." That was my 'date'reminded me that I'd cheated with her over the course of a home-cooked meal,cooked not-by-her in someone else's home. I wondered how Maya was doing.
Eleven Madison Westmeant I pulled out one of my Havenstone suits. They were tailored after all andI suspected that getting into this place at this time of night was going totake some charisma and finagling. Dressing as causal-me wouldn't do. When Istepped out, jaws dropped ~ I do look good all gussied up. Odette dispelled theshock by jumping into my arms. "You look hot," she squealed. "Too bad I'm not going out withyou." "You might want to remember that," Anais griped. "We need to stop by Havenstone so I can attempt to dress up for thisaffair," Juanita stated. "How about we call in a replacement? Give you the night off?" Isuggested. "Who?" "Chaz?" "You want that British SSR non-commissioned officer to be your personalbodyguard for tonight? You've got balls," Juanita coughed. I took out myphone and got ready to give him a call. "Hey, Anais, why didn't you call me to tell me you were coming over?"I carefully avoided the word 'warned' as she would take that the wrong way. "I don't have your personal phone number. I called your home phone and gotthe answering service, last night and again this morning," she narrowedher eyes. "Odette, did Timothy get lucky last night?" I looked past theMountie. "No. A good friend of his rolled his motorcycle and he went to thehospital to help him out," Odette shook her head. Poor Timothy. Myroomie/fuck-buddy misinterpreted Anais's pique. "Timothy is gay, not asexual enabler." "Huh?" Juanita wondered. "Wingman," I translated. "Sometimes the three of us go to gayclubs where I act as his wingman," "And they feed me to lesbians," Odette sounded enthusiastic. Thanksto me she was hardly a same-sex virgin. "If there are three people living here and two bedrooms, who sleeps on thesofa?" Anais skewered Odette with her eyes. "If Cáel has company and isn't sharing, I sleep with Timothy," Odetterefused to wilt, or cut me some slack with Anais. "Isn't sharing?" those ocular death orbs flicked my way. "Hmm, if we are going to Elven Madison West, I had better make thatcall," I evaded. I rang Chaz. "Nyilas," he answered. "How are you doing this evening?" "I'm good. I have an ex-girlfriend from out of town visiting, she wants togo to a swanky place and Juanita isn't dressed for the detail so," "You want me to double date?" "No, I need a bodyguard." "You are assuming I have something appropriate to wear." "You are British!" I protested. "Even your chicks havetuxedos." "Very well. Will this be a personal protection detail, or closesupport?" "Aahhh," "Close support," said Anais. "Personal Protection," countered Juanita. "The one most likely to save me from being stabbed with a steakknife," I muttered. "I am not going to physically attack you," Anais simmered. Yeah,right, I had heard that one before, and not just from her. "Personal Protection it is," Chaz informed me. "Oh, and she's a Mountie." "Is she armed?" "No," I thanked the goddesses. "Does she want to be?" "Huh? Are you going to arm her?" I panicked. "No. You have a NYPD liaison. Give Officer Kutuzov a call and make aformal request. If she is a law enforcement officer in good standing, itshouldn't be a problem." "Oh, I can do that?, I'm not sure that's the best idea," Iprevaricated. "Man up, Nyilas," he chided me. "You should work on making it sowomen don't want to shoot you instead of thinking of ways to disarm them." "Spoken like a man who wisely prefers the company of other men," Igrumbled. "Good use of the word 'wisely'. Next question: what are we using as ameans of conveyance?" "Umm," "I have my motorcycle," Anais was less than helpful. "If you weren't one of the bravest human beings I'd ever met, I woulddetermine at this moment that you are a dolt. Call Havenstone and arrange forone of those Mercedes Armored GL550s. Bring your license. I drive on thecorrect side of the road and I'm not keen on having a distraught paramourdriving into a storefront at 80 kph." "Man, I like the way you speak," I joked. "I took advantage of a proper English education." "I was joking with you." "I know." "Can I date your sister?" I didn't know if he had a sister, but he'dhinted there were multiple Tomorrow's out there. Anais' mood didn't improve. "Yes. I like you. You are a good bloke." "Does your sister know how to kill people?" "Yes. I'd say she's relatively proficient with a variety of small arms andhand-to-hand techniques," he enlightened me. "Just checking." "Cáel, every woman you are interested knows how to kill people, or how tohave people killed," Chaz reminded me. "What about Odette? She's neither well connected nor lethal." "Odette is indeed an enigma. She counters that by being well liked bypeople who are capable of killing others who hurt her, except where you areconcerned. You live a treasured life." "Have you made dinner reservations? If you need me for a black tie eventit has to be, what is the American for it, swanky." "That's more of a Cael/Pamela thing," I corrected him."American's say 'high class', expensive, or 'hot spot'." "Thanks for the update. Make those calls." "O-kay. Will do. I'll meet you at Havenstone in thirty minutes. Does thatwork for you?" "Yes. Make those calls. I'll see you at, 7:52 pm, EDT. Mark." "Huh?" "Goodbye Cáel," and he hung up. "Who is this 'Chaz' character?" Anais questioned me. "He is Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow of the British Army's SpecialReconnaissance Regiment, he's a badass and he's delicious," Odette answeredfor me. "How do you know him, either of you?" came next. "He was with," Odette began blabbing 'National Security' stuff. "Odette, don't. Anais, he is member of the Joint International KhanateInterim Taskforce along with me. Odette helps out in an auxiliary role," Ianswered. "Cáel, how did you end up doing this kind of work?" she wasperplexed. "You were devoid of anything approaching civic responsibilitywhen we were last together. Quite frankly, I didn't think you cared for anyonebut yourself." "Hey now," Odette got feisty. She was my friend after all. "We can talk about that over dinner?" I suggested. She didn't likethat answer, so I lied. "I grew up," which was what she wanted tohear. I was spared any more interrogation at the moment by the necessity ofmaking those three phone calls. Nikita liked hearing from me again, though shewas less pleased that it was official business. She did agree to contact theappropriate agency for me, despite me making it for a different female lawenforcement agent. I'd wised up about Havenstone. I called Executive services to have the cardelivered to my door step. I cautioned the operative that, in my neighborhood,they might be stopped on suspicion of purchasing guns, drugs, and/or a goodtime. I would have the car in fifteen minutes and agreed to take the deliverydriver back to work afterwards. I'd have done it even if I wasn't meeting Chaz. At Eleven Madison West, I got a snooty 'exactly who do you think you are?'followed by 'you will be placed on the waiting list, a spot may open up around9:50'. Was I going to inform Chaz and Anais of this? Of course not. I plannedto beg like a big dog, suggest that while I was a nameless face, I actuallyknew people, a person, and we'd see how far that got me. While waiting for the S U V to arrive and on the drive back to Havenstone, thisis pretty much what followed: "Do you know who was behind your father's murder yet?" "Yes, but I can't talk about it." "Was that the reason people are trying to kill you?" "Yes. That and other reasons." "What other reasons?" "Things I can't talk about." "Why can't you talk about it?" "Secret society stuff ~ decoder rings, secret handshakes, writing incyphers, holding clandestine meetings in public places after dark, and variousother things world governments don't want me talking about." "Are you pulling my leg?" I wished I was running my hands over herlegs. This wasn't the time for that revelation. "No. Most of what I am telling you is the truth." "Were you in a shootout at the Chicago Medical Examiner's morgue?" "Yes. I was unarmed at the time." "Was your life in danger?" "It depends on what you mean by 'danger'. My allies had guns and wereexpert shots. I was shot at, but they missed me, so I not sure how much my lifewas at risk." "Can you please be serious?" "I'm trying. You scare me." "You don't need to be afraid of me. I only want to help." That wasmostly true. She was a diligent, hard-working incorruptible publicservant,well, as long as you overlooked her charging me with bestiality whenshe was truly pissed with me. "I'm not afraid of you hurting me. I'm afraid for you. You are anexcellent peace officer and I'm worried that you will learn too much. Then yourlife will be as screwed up as mine." "I can take care of myself." "The reality that you are going out with me unarmed speaks volumes aboutwhat you don't know, Anais." "Don't think this line of questioning is over, Cáel." "Don't worry. I know you are not done." "Very well. How is your aunt?" The crab-fisherwoman, not the Irishmenagerie. "Happy as a clam, working a real job and living life on her ownterms." "Where did you go wrong?" That was a loaded question. I had to treadcarefully. "A girl humiliated me in high school. I decided to take control of my lifeand somehow, despite my best intentions to be an unreliable lothario, I'veended up with people closer to me than family,and this constant need forphysical protection." "Why are you engaged?" Finally, the real reason she was here. Had shecome by to pick up her accoutrements, she would have been gone by the time Icame home. She wanted answers, answers that allowed her to be in charge of ourrelationship again. It was the double-barreled impact of exceptional sex andwondering why she wasn't 'the one'. (Me) "Are you seeing somebody?" "You didn't answer my question." "I've answered plenty of your questions. Answer mine." "No. Men expect too much from a career woman." Translation: 'I'm abitch that, regardless of my dynamite looks and raunchy sex drive, repels menbecause I'm a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.' "You do put your career first." Translation: 'I've totally forgottenthat you are a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.' It was whatshe wanted to hear. "Your turn." "Put on your tin-foil hat. I did it to save lives in Central Asia when theanthrax strikes were going on. I have this friend over there that people listento." "Who? The Great Khan?" I didn't respond which wasn't the answer she was expecting. "How?" as in how could I possibly be good friends with the master ofarguably the third or fourth most powerful nation on the face of the Earth "That's one of those things I can't talk about." "Do you love her?" "I don't know. I'm lousy at relationships. I get along with her daughter.Her father wants to bury me alive in the Nevada desert. The rest of the familyseems to be coming around to the idea that I might be one of them." "That isn't a 'yes'." "No, it isn't." "Do you think you can ever love someone?" If you need translated,sigh, okay, 'why don't you love me?' "Do you mean 'when am I going to stop stumbling from botched relationshipto botched relationship and make something constructive of my personallife?'" "Yes." "Did I mention that I've discovered I have a grandfather?" "No. That isn't answering my question." "It is in a way. Did I mention that Mom had ten sisters I wasn't aware of?I had an uncle, but he died in my arms." "No. My condolences on your uncle. What does this have to do with youbecoming more of an adult and becoming accountable for your life?" "Did I mention I have an adopted grandmother who is my spiritualtwin?" "No." "Don't worry about my uncle. He died trying to kill me. My aunts murderedhim, though I can never prove it." "Oh." "My grandfather? He was the one who sent those terrorists to kill me. Itwas his litmus test to see if I was worthy of being in his family. Ipassed." "Are you serious?" "Yes. My spiritual grandma? She's a retired professional assassin. Daily Iinteract with a half-dozen people who have killed multiple human beings intheir lifetimes. You want to know why I'm not behaving responsibly? I am actingresponsibly. I'm trying to not get the decent civilians around me killed."
She took awhiledigesting that. By that time, we had returned to Havenstone and picked up Chaz.I made introductions. "So, are you really with the SRR?" she asked him. "Yes." "Why are you with Cáel?" "My mandate contains multiple answers. Suffice it to say, since my RAFcontemporary will not be returning from the UK until tomorrow, I am presentlychief liaison officer for Her Majesty's government with JIKIT." "Why are you coming along as Cáel’s bodyguard? Don't you have somethingbetter to do with your Friday evenings?" Subtle and polite, Anais ain't.Why was I putting up with her? She was a sexual tornado who would try anythingonce. She was a real prize. "First question: Cáel is a friend, his life is in perpetual danger and Iconsider it my duty to keep him alive. He would do the same for me. Secondquestion: the nature of my present assignment doesn't leave much room for anymeaningful romantic associations." "Hmm," I contemplated what wasn't being said. "Chaz, you arenailing one of my security chicks, aren't you?" "Yes." "Which one?" "A man of character doesn't brag about such things." Chaz was getting some Amazon nookie. I had to find a way to tell him howdangerous that was. She might decide he's make good father material, not a goodthing where Amazons were concerned. "Are all of his security personnel women?" Anais pressed. "Miss Saint-Amour, Havenstone is a corporation that employs over tenthousand people. There are precisely five men currently on their payroll. Alltheir security personnel are woman. Cáel has very limited, if any, input on thematter." "Are you sure about that?" "Yes, Miss Saint-Amour. Who would trust a man of Cáel’s dubious experiencewith his own security?" Chaz pointed out. "Oh." She hadn't thought of that. "Can you tell me why you think his life is in danger?" "He is far more likely to be kidnapped than murdered. He possess certainsensitive data that powerful entities would like to access, thus I am hisbodyguard tonight. Considering the quality of the women who normally guard him,I consider it an honor." "To guard Cáel, on a date?" "He was kidnapped visiting a child at a playground. Yes, we believe hislife is in constant peril. The training and experience of his security serviceis top flight and it has been a pleasure to serve among them." "Were you with him in Budapest and Romania?" "The metro station?" "Yes." "Yes." "Romania?" "Do you mean the counterterrorism action south of Miercurea Ciuc?" "Yes." "Yes." Wow, these two were lousy communicators. I could imagine Chaz propositioningone of my Amazons. Chaz: 'You have a superior feminine physique which I find appealing. Want tofuck?' Amazon: 'You look like you have the prerequisite stamina and battle scars to bepart of the New Directive. Sure.' "Were you involved in the actual combat? The SRR is normally anintelligence gathering unit." "I was gathering battlefield intelligence, Miss. That required my closeproximity to armed and actively hostile enemy aliens (as in they were inRomania illegally, not that they were all supernatural beings). My involvementresulted in two KIA's and one WIA." "Damn Chaz, you rock." "I am a professional." "How many did Pamela gak?" "One KIA." "Just one? Whoa, that's so unlike her." "She kept trying to bracket the cell leader (aka Ajax). He had the Devil'sOwn Luck." "Cáel, why are you making light of all those deaths?" Anais chastisedme. "How many terrorists did you wound, or kill?" "I wounded one guy." "That is disingenuous," Chaz chided me. "You orchestrated theoperation, showed tactical expertise in seizing the most critical terrainfeature and engineered the death of the terrorist leader." "My Cáel did that? When I knew him, he was adverse to violence,"Anais shook her head. "Considering the considerable number of people he's killed, he's stilladverse to physical confrontation where his own life is involved. But God helpyou if you threaten someone he is close to, though. He's the man who can getthings done when the team is in a pinch." "Cáel, what happened to you?" she didn't sound upset at all. "I learned to care for people beyond my immediate interest, you know,actual long-term relationships," with the unspoken 'as opposed to womenI'm currently having sex with'. "It took you long enough," she snipped. Reference her being acompulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues. The interrogation was put on hold while we entered the restaurant and, "Mr. Nyilas?" the maytre dee greeted me. "Yes." "We will get you a table right away," he nodded obsequiously. Whatthe hell was up with that? Where was my two hour wait time? Oh yeah, I was aminor,fifteen seconds of famecelebrity. "Will Ms. Sulkanen be joining you this evening?" "No. She had to oversee a packaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides explosionin Boca Raton. Flaming plastic pink flamingo bits were raining down everywhere.I imagine it is taking an Everest-sized load of hush money to keep this out ofthe media," I replied. I was so eerily sincere, he bought it and a look ofhorror snuck over his face. I had become the public face of corporatemalfeasance. "Your table (gulp) is ready, Sir," he began to sweat. He took us toour table for four then beat a hasty retreat. Undoubtedly his civic-mindednesswould have him calling up TMZ within a minute. After all, it was unlikely heowned any plastic pink flamingos, or invested in their construction. Once hewas gone, Chaz let a thin smile break through his hard-earned militaryunfazed-ability. "What exactly arepackaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides?"he inquired. "Packaged is self-explanatory. Erythrosine is pink food coloring andmonosaccharides are," "Sugar," Anais frowned. "Exploding pixie sticks, I have nieces and nephews. You are a genius atmisdirection, Mr. Nyilas," he nodded. "Thank you, Color Sergeant Tomorrow. It is nice to be appreciated for mybizarre and useless preoccupation," I grinned. "You practice lying?" Anais' view of me dimmed. "Miss, he excels at extraneous, outrageous utterances. No harm isintended." "Things likeI was helping her find her contact lenses?"That had been my excuse when caught coming out of Maya's apartment. Sadly,Anais is highly perceptive and knew the lady didn't wear contacts. The copiousfemale aroma wafting off me certainly hadn't helped. "That's unfair," I countered. "Back then, I was a college nitwitsuffering from undiagnosed nymphomania. I'd like to think I'm gettingbetter."
"tes-vous mieux?" she retorted in French. "Je suis assez intelligent pour aller vers vous lorsque des vies "Are you really a nymphomaniac?" she returned to English. French isthe language of sex, as is any derivative of Sanskrit, Farsi and Portuguese.Reference the multitude of Indians, the hotness of Persian women and theoutpouring of lust that is Brazil.
"I had amagnetoencephalography recently. The neuroscientists didn't know what to makeof my brain patterns. I appear to be somewhat unique in my madness." She didn't believe me. I didn't blame her. No one really likes hearing a truththey don't want to accept. "Here," I leaned forward and pointed to the tiny divot in myforehead. "I was stabbed with a needle in the skull. That is why theylooked at me, not because of my sexual malfunction." She touched it to makes sure. We were interrupted by the waiter stopping by tosee if we were ready to order yet. "We will have three of the most expensive appetizers, dinners, deserts andwines," Anais preempted us. Ugh. I was either a millionaire by the wondersof Havenstone accounting, or broke. I foolishly never looked into such things,never having had much money before. I needed a distraction. "Hey Chaz, nice suit," was what came to mind. It was a swellmasterpiece of the tailoring arts I hadn't expect from a ground-pounder from afamily of ground-pounders serving Queen and Country for generations. "Thank you. Pamela picked it out for me, suspecting an event such as thiswould transpire. She told me you paid for it," Chaz answered. "I did?" "I made the reasonable deduction that she forged your signature onwhatever medium was used for payment," he shrugged, "in the same wayshe exhibits a criminal tendency toward every other aspect of her life." "What does Pamela look like?" Anais glowered. "She's his grandmother," Chaz responded politely. "They makequite the pair. Normally we don't let them alone in the same room. Bad thingshappen." "Bad things?" "Things like that scenic hostel being reduced to ruin," heenlightened her. "This is the supposed assassin?" "Retired assassin," Chaz corrected her. "So far she's only, whatis the term you two use?" he looked at me. "Sending a Get-Well card to their next of kin? Pumping up the volume?Making a critical attitude adjustment? Retroactively revoking their lease onlife? We have a few." "Yes, those. Pamela has assured the team director that she no longeraccepts assignments of a murderous nature. These days she only practices herskills on those we determine are a threat to the greater endeavor," heexplained. "She murders people? You all murder people?" Anais furrowed her brow."Cáel, do you engage in these activities?" "What? Who? Me? No!" I waved off any conspiratorial associations."The vast majority of people I've killed was totally by accident." "How do you accidently kill people?" she pierced my soul with hervoice. "Okay, I let them kill themselves because warning them would have resultedin me and some friends meeting very immediate violent ends," I pleaded. "Miss Saint-Amour, I've talked to trustworthy people who were on the scenewhen this happened. It was a paramilitary action with the lives of children onthe line. Cáel acted to save the lives of innocents," Chaz defended me.That is what Anais wanted to believe; that I was basically a decent humanbeing. I was a pig, but a courageous one. I had confronted her after myinfidelity, on the other side of the US/Canadian border where her jurisdictiondidn't apply. I knew my revelations were hideously hard to believe. In my favor, I had beenin dangerous places doing dangerous things. The Metro firefight had beencaptured on the place's security system (which had been leaked to the publicthus leading to some delusional admirers into thinking I would make a great newKing of Hungary even though they hadn't had a monarch since 1918 nor was I fromthe right (Hapsburg) family. In case this whole Havenstone thing came crashingdown in flames, I needed to keep my options open). There had been a bomb threat at Mindszent which I had reputable sources call in(and where I had admittedly hung out with a few of the women who saved me froman earlier disaster) and Miercurea Ciuc had made the international news. Wellover 100 people had died and some of the terrorists were still at large. TheRomanian government declared I had been 'instrumental' in the confrontationwithout saying what 'instrumental' meant. I was heroically vague, more mature than where we left off and clearly incitedpussy-twitching memories. We'd once fucked so continuously hard and long oneweekend that neither one of us could stand until an hour after we stopped.Anais was well worth the pain I was contemplating. Sex with her wasn't the painI was worried about. It was dodging all her calls afterwards. Once againreference her being a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues. Oh, how did I know she was reveling in our past coital moments? She hadn'twalked out on me yet. She hadn't walked out when she found Odette in mydomicile, when she met Juanita, or when she found out that I worked with highlyexperienced killers as part of my new daily routine. Normally Anais was smarter than this and had a career in law enforcement tocontemplate. Lastly, she hadn't asked to be armed, despite getting permissionfrom the NYPD. Had she decided to get a gun, Anais was sure in herhormonally-cascading mindset she would have shot me by now. I incite all kindsof passion in women. It is a curse. The rest of dinner was unremarkable. Anais continued to interrogate Chaz whoproved that he was both skilled in counter-interrogation techniques and notwilling to spill anymore secrets about what anyone at JIKIT did. Howeverhehadprovided her with every logical reason to beat feetback across the Canadian border and she hadn't taken the hints about what adisaster sleeping with me could be. We drove Anais back to her motel, then Chaz and I headed home in silence.Despite his earlier declarations, he knew how to drive the 'right' way allalong. As he was letting me out in front of my building, he gave me thispleasant warning. "I'm not going to lecture you about not going back there, or avoiding thecrazy ones. You already know better and are going back by her place anyway. Ido advise that whatever you do, don't let her restrict your movements in anyway. She's likely to make you pay double for your past indiscretions and takepayment out on your cock. Good luck, Mate." "Wait," I stopped him. "Can you help me hotwire her bike? I canuse that as an excuse to darken her doorway." "Dolt," he muttered. He helped me anyway because that's what reallygood friends do ~ assisting you in your self-destruction so we could joke aboutit later. At least that was what I hoped was going on. Chaz being a closetsadist was an unsettling idea. I didn't get to immediately pursue my planbecause, (We work for you, don't we?) At 9 am, the President of the United States of America, after a late nightbriefing and a good night's sleep, decided that for the sake of world peace hehad to intervene in Southeast Asia ~ Thailand to be specific, though he hadsome vague notion that a summit of regional leaders was in the offing and theUS needed to establish some sort of game plan instead of looking impotent anddisinterested. Based on carefully selected bits of information supplied to him by us (JIKIT),he ordered two carrier taskforces to move to the Gulf of Thailand to enforce ananticipated UN arms embargo and 'No-Fly Zone'. It would take four days(September 3rd) for Carrier Strike Group Nine (built around theUSSRonald Reagan) and the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit (2,200 souls) to takeup a position in the South China Sea close to the Gulf of Thailand. Byfortuitous circumstance, 500 Marines and sailors were already deployed toMalaysia on a joint training mission with the Malaysian Marines. The second one, theUSS Carl Vinson's Carrier Strike Group Onewouldn't arrive until the 9th, six days later. What the US government wanted toknow was what the Khanate and Vietnam would do in those long, lonely six days.The Khanate had as many modern, up-to-date combat aircraft on Woody Island asthe Reagan could send up. The Vietnamese could add another 48 planes worthworrying about. There was the added complication that Thailand hadn't asked for help yet. Hisexperts (us again) were suggesting that he was about to wake up one morning andfind Khanate tanks rolling down the streets of Bangkok, which would leavelittle time for anything but a quick exit to the closest airport and flightfrom the country for our people there. Then, God-forbid, democracy would breakout, regime change would be enacted and the Khanate would rack up anotherregional ally. Apparently someone along the line had edited that part of the info feed wherethe Khanate actually liked the US and would have gladly worked with them/us tobring this about. By the Great Khan's thinking, the more power you brought tothe initial strike, the fewer people would actually die. Closer to the issuewas that the Khanate had no reason to expect the US to intervene. Not only didit run contrary to the Administration's willingness to do nothing, they had noforces in place to influence the Khanate's capability to intervene. The answer to this conundrum was simple to me/Alal. The US had three regionalallies: the Philippines, the Republic of China and to a lesser degree,Malaysia. The Philippines was sitting there, ready and willing to contributeall of her airfields for the use of the US Army and Air Force. North of themwas the Republic of China, another long-time ally. Malaysia didn't have a longhistory of being pro-US, but they were major opponents of the Khanate's rise toprominence in Southeast Asian affairs. Our President's problem was that allies take convincing and kinda/sorta expectsomething in return for being your buddies, and it just so happened all threehad pressing issues the US could help with. That would be the Spratly andParcel Island, in case someone hadn't been paying attention to the Khanate'sdiplomatic wrangling post-ceasefire. The Khanate, India, Vietnam and the ROChad divided up the Parcels in a treaty that no one else was planning to accept(though only the PRC was getting shafted). Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou was going to provide his air force, navy andair bases and all Obama had to do was give a nod to a key factor in futureTaiwanese economic prosperity which would involve the US President helping outin the ass-raping of China, but really 'just a little bit'. Taiwan was ready todo all the heavy lifting (aka, kicking the Asian Colossus when it was down.)Once this Thailand debacle was over, they'd cuddle back up with the Khanatebecause that would really help their territorial ambitions. President Benigno Aquino the 3rd, of the Philippines had his ownniggling problem, called the Spratly Islands and the treaty the Khanate wastrying to bring about there. And the Khanate (Amazons actually) had capturedall the PRC bases and outposts in that island group. And it would really benice if the US would step up and back the healthy claims his proud, butimpoverished homeland was trying to enforce. They had a chance to exploit thevast wealth in and under the South China Sea and they were more than willing tolet the US use all their bases as they brought about a renewed peace in theSoutheast Asian theater. Peace in the South China Sea? Without consulting China? You know, gettinginvolved. Yeah, that meant ships in'harm's way','boots onthe ground'and arming all those expensive fighters with air-to-airmissiles because they might really need them. No, the revolution going on inThailand wasn't going to be solved with another series of drone strikes,Tomahawks and air sorties from 5000 meters up. Some talking heads in the Pentagon thought that the 42 F A 18 fighters ontheReaganwould be able to handle themselves because theKhanate had never had to play in theBig League. The majority ofanalysts had a slightly grimmer picture of things. The Khanate had 42 fightersjust as good as the F A 18 in the Woody Islands plus 16 advanced, supersonicbombers equipped with anti-ship missiles, just ask the survivors of the PLANcarrierLiaoning. The Khanate also had 120 combat aircraft in southern China that could beprepared for operations in the Thailand within 24 hours. Satellitereconnaissance had revealed the Khanate's formidable aerial logistics were upand running around the clock, moving stores to the Laotian/Thai border. Therewere another 860 fighters and combat drones in theater that could be brought tobear given a week or two. That was firepower two carriers couldn't hope tomatch. Then there was the fact that US and NATO combat troops were still in theprocess of evacuating from Afghanistan. Could they defeat the chaotic anddisorganized Afghan Army? Yes, but then what? The Khanate had already movedtwoTumensinto the country and those would be much hardernuts to crack, plus the Khanate was operating within 1000 km of theirlogistical base. The Coalition would have to fly in supplies from Pakistan, ifthe Pakistanis felt like upsetting the Khanate, which was another greatunknown. What this meant was President Obama was getting conflicting advice. TheSecretary of State felt the US had to do something and, after reading anabridged version of our report (groan) and consulting with the UK, decided thatharsh language would have null effect on Khanate aggression. In the very shortterm, getting the UN to do anything was complicated by the majority of nationsnot acknowledging the Khanate's existence. An even greater disaster came from the Right Honorable Phillip Hammond, UK'sSecretary of State, who suggested that it was not in his nation's interests topublically oppose the Khanate considering his nation's public's displeasurewith a dictator gunning down unarmed protestors in the street. Human Rightsgroups in the UK were already confronting the horror of praising a militarysolution to the Thai's civil rights woes. It was echoes of Tibet all overagain. In addition to that, in response to feelers made by his (deep breath) AssistantSecretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs (my old buddy D.R.Russel) and Assistant Secretary for South and Central Asian (another one of myfans at State, R.O. Blake) (exhale) to the Khanate's allies (India andVietnam), had them accusing the US of retreating to the Cold War policy ofsupporting repressive regimes. The evaporation of overseas political clout hadSecretary Kerry feeling it was time for the United States to wield the 'BigStick', a show of force without a commitment to really do anything. The holder of the 'Big Stick', Secretary of Defense Chuck Hagel, was hedginghis bets. His subordinates were optimistic they could dosomethingwhilewanting to know precisely what it was they were expected to do. It wasn't likethere was a coherent Southeast Asian policy that actually factored in thetitanic shifts in power (aka the Indian/Khanate/Vietnamese Alliance) over thepast two months to examine. The US Navy? Hadn't Hagel once suggested that the US Navy be reduced to onlyeight carrier groups? His Admirals were saying 'yes, we can' and 'but if we do,we won't be able to meet other security obligations'. Basically a 'we told youso'. The Khanate might not be a naval power, but they could project militaryinfluence into the Mediterranean, the Middle East and the South China Sea, allat the same time. They also wanted to know why they couldn't use the 7th Fleet, the one in Japan,who also had Carrier Strike Group Five built around theGeorgeWashington, and could be there in only four days. What about theGeorgeH. W. Bush's Carrier Strike Group Two in the Persian Gulf? They could bethere off the western coast of Thailand in four days as well. What the admirals were stressing was that the Khanate didn't know this wasempty posturing. It was their branch of service that was on the line if theKhanate decided they didn't like being threatened and this whole debacle endedup a warzone. Supercarriers carried 3,700 human beings, cost over $10 billioneach and took seven years to complete. They had preciselyoneinthe works, and it wasn't due to be commissioned until 2016. Hagel shook his head. He couldn't leave Wacky Cousin Kim (Kim Ju-un of NorthKorea) alone with poor, little South Korea, not with him having half of hisarmy mobilized. Japan was already going to have kittens over the carriers notcoming their way. Didn't they know that there was going to be war in the YellowSea in only six months, and the Yellow Sea was a major trade conduit to thatisland nation? CTG Five was busy fulfilling President Obama's pledge to do something aboutISIS's campaign against the Kurds and Yazidi. He didn't want to have the worldbelieve the US Navy could only handle one task at a time. Finally, the admiralssuggested that knowing precisely what the ROC's navy was going to be doing wasnecessary. Also of some pressing need was understanding just what (and when)the Air Force would be bringing into this potentially catastrophic operation. The US Air Force was more positive about their role in things. After all, theKhanate couldn't 'sink' the Philippines and the ROC had over 200 advancedfighter of their own to protect their air bases. In three days they could havetwo squadrons (roughly 40 aircraft), the 19th and 199th Squadrons, ready to go. If they couldn't access Philippine, or Taiwanese bases? Their fighters couldn'tfly all the way from Guam unassisted, but if the Navy promised to protect theirbombers and air refuelers, they could be used from the comfort of Californianairfields. Would they have to fly airlift capabilities for the Army and MarineCorps? No problem as long as the Navy did their jobs. Lastly, the F-22 Raptorhad never been in combat before and the Air Force generals were curious aboutjust how good it was. There was one, tiny, problem. By the way Sir, the F-22 has a combat radius of 760 kilometers, so they actuallycouldn't do anything to anyone unless they were in some place closer, likeSultan Ismail Petra Airport. That is in Malaysia, Sir. Yes Sir, we are aware we don't have a status of forces agreement with theMalaysians. Isn't that the State Department's job? What about the Woody Islands? We don't own the Woody Island. Oh, you mean 'can we escort a strike against it'. No Sir. That is 1250 km awayfrom Taiwan. Besides, Sir, the F-22 is not a strike fighter. From the Philippines? That would be over a 1000 km. Still too far away. Yes, of course we have other fighters. The F-15E is an excellent aircraft! Well, we aren't using it because it is not configured as an air-superiorityfighter. For that we need the F-15C/D. Since we can't use any of the ones inJapan, we can either fly them in from England, yes Sir, Europe's England, or wecan activate the 194th Fighter Squadron of the California Air National Guard. You don't want to use the Air National Guard? Ah, Sir, then we have a problem.The 199th Squadron is part of the Hawaiian Air National Guard. Sir, in our considered opinion, the 19th Squadron might not be up to the taskall by themselves. Are you sure we can't use some planes from Japan? No Sir. We need the Hawaiian's, because they have the F-22, the planes wedesigned for air superiority missions. Well Sir, we could use the F-15E's in that role, but we are worried they mightnot bebetterthan projected opposition fighters. Yes Sir, that means we could expect some of them to be shot down. Yes Sir. That could get quite expensive. We could launch a preemptive strike. Yes Sir, we are pretty sure that would be construed as an Act of War as well.We don't have to go after all three of them. Perhaps if we didn't go after theIndians they would take the hint and leave.
It would make us look bad? Sir, I am more worried about how bad dead USservicemen and women look. Don't you think, Yes Sir, we know we implement policy, not create it. Okay Sir. After all, the Khanate might not know about the F-22's range issues.Maybe they don't have an effective intelligence network or (mutters) access toWikipedia. The Marine Corps? '500 Marines on site and 1700 Marines on the way; fit, rested and ready,Sir'. Where do you want us to go?' 'Do we have any idea about the level of opposition, the amount of time thismission will take and what precisely we are going to be required to do?'
What else could the Commandant say? The other six M E U were too far away toaffect the nine-day timetable. The Marine Air components would do their job,even if clearly outnumbered. His one voiced concern was for the possiblereception his Marines would receive from the Thai people. Apparently thecurrent dictator wasn't terribly popular, and was gunning down his own people inthe streets. Things like that were hard on his men's morale.
The Army?
What exactly do you want us do again?
Go into a potential 'hot' warzone where the safety of deployment as wellresupply were clearly debatable?
That's why God made Rangers. The Airborne would arrive once all the realfighting was accomplished anyway and, now that they were getting out ofAfghanistan, they had someplace new to send their overworked reservists. Theycould deploy the 1st Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne to the Philippines,provided they were welcome.
Unlike the US Navy, who expected their ships to sail around ready for a fight,the US Army would need to access extra funding for this deployment. They alsowanted the President's written authorization to fly 'their' (actually the AirForce's) MC-130's into forward bases that existed within a 10 minute fly timeof potentially hostile borders.
With no clear operational objectives, limited intelligence on enemy forces andabsent an exit strategy, the Joint Chiefs weren't fans of intervention. Yes,they did know this was a bluff. But they were paid to plan for the contingencythat this bluff was called and they were expected to take this showdown to thelevel of a true confrontation if that occurred. Lives were at stake.
With that kind of advice, Hagel deferred his support for this endeavor bylaying it all on Secretary Kerry's lap. His troopers would go in, if they hadthe proper regional support. Kerry told the President that he could get thatsupport if he made some backroom deals with the Malaysia, the ROC and thePhilippines, most likely to screw over China in some manner. The Administrationcould renege later, sighting a mutable geopolitical landscape.
At that point the National Security Advisor, Susan Rice, rallied to POTUS'sside and put forth into his mind the gem of an idea that if the US acteddecisively, there would be no need for fighting. After all, she had this'hand-picked' team of intelligence experts who had an in depth knowledge of theKhanate's leadership. The Khanate wasn't a terrorist organization and could bedealt with rationally ~ she'd read our reports! Sadly she had decided tocherry-pick what she wanted to pass on.
We in JIKIT were wondering why she had decided to not recall what else we hadwarned her about ~ you know: the Khanate not respecting the currentadministration and doubting its resolve. JIKIT hadtoldher touse overwhelmingforce. Feeding them one aircraft carrier at a time wasthe opposite of that.
The Khanate wasn't likely to attack one carrier.A)theydoubted the US Navy was feeling particularly suicidal,B)theyalready believed that if the US hit first, they certainly could flatten thatcarrier and its supporting ships, andC)if the US appeared tobe becoming problematic, the Khanatewouldstrike first andhard.
Did the Khanate believe their planes and missiles were so good that they couldpenetrate the impenetrable barrier that surrounded a US taskforce?
Perhaps. They had fucked the PLAN pretty hard, striking at a greater distancewith less preparation. Why didn't our political bosses see that?
Fathom told me it was information overload. We were providing so much data thatthe people on top couldn't possibly know everything.
Someone in Washington forgot to put that into the National Security briefingthat the National Security Advisor gave the President that the Khanate hadcaptured a series of Chinese missiles in Western China, and not just thenuclear ones. Some of those captured missiles were an advanced Chinese designwith a suspected range of 3500 km. It was a freakingintermediate-rangeballistic missile!That bitch could hit Mach 10, and it could besteered, and it was radar seeking.
Why had IRBM anti-ship missiles been inWestern(as opposed tobeing on the coast inEasternChina)? To hit targets in theArabian Sea and the Persian Gulf, Duh! That was the kind of range we weretalking about. JIKIT teams had aided in the capture of those weapons and theKhanate had confirmed it. We were their friends and that's how they treatedtheir friends, with honesty. Like a good little minion, Addison had passed thatknowledge on.
At the same time, the 16 Tu-160M supersonic bombers presently sitting on thetarmac on Woody Island could scramble and then launch 12 advanced anti-ship missiles,each. I was sure that the navy's Aegis-cruisers were the best money could buy.Expecting them to handled 192 incoming 'vampires' (military jargon for the'shit trying to kill us') sea-skimming their way at Mach 5 was probably askingtoo much.
I couldn't claim to divine the inner workings of the President of the UnitedState's mind, but personally I believed he said 'what the fuck. I can alwayscall them back later', forgetting the Khanate's willingness to launch apreemptive strike when it suited their purpose.
Or, the far more likely outcome that we (the US) would be utterly ignored infront of the world-wide media because the Khanate was ruled by military men whotook into account what their troops could and couldn't do before makingpolitically-based military decisions.
Could their actions lead to war? Perhaps. When you picked up the sword, expectviolence. Could the US beat the Khanate? Perhaps, if the US people had the willto continue fighting long enough. The will of a people to persevere was a greatunknown. The US had been underestimated before.
What was known was the US was running a $400 Billion Budget Deficit, carryingover $18 trillion in debt and we were a consumer-driven, service economyutterly dependent on foreign trade. The US did have the world's best military,but they weren't designed to be an army of conquest. They'd been stretched thinoccupying Iraq and Afghanistan. The ability of our military to replace bothpeople and equipment was limited by high production costs, a long season ofpeace and a casualty-averse populace.
The Khanate was a resource-driven economy which meant other countries neededthe raw materials they were selling. They were hardly an internally independententity and they appreciated their own trade vulnerability. A big difference wasthey were ruled by a leadership that fully expected to spend a generation inbloodletting to reconstitute their vanished empire. Their infant nation wasalready in a war economy. Their people were awake to the cost to citizenry intheir state and aware there would be a physical cost for achieving security forthose who would follow.
In the end, I believed the US President was aware of both of the above seriesof facts, but decided his 'there is nothing I can do' policy was way down inthe public opinion polls, domestic prices were roller-coasting and there was amid-term Congressional election right around the corner.
Peace had not broken out across the globe as he had hoped, Islamophobia was adirty little secret walking the back halls of the temples of power and OsamaBin Laden had only been replaced by a far more insidious foe of the New WorldOrder. The raging currents of the present reality were about to reduce him to afootnote in history and in the land where legacy mattered, that was somethingtoo horrible to contemplate.
Then he caged his decisive 'Do it!' with a suggestion that Susan make sure herexperts thought this was a viable idea. Talk about passing the buck. The bucklanded in Tony Blinken's (Deputy National Security Advisor (DNSA)) lap and hecalled us, Addison really, but she had all of us in pretty quick. I didn't haveto delve into the deep, mystic thoughts of Temujin to know how to answer thatquestion: 'Don't do it!'
'What is in it for them?'
Tony: 'Nothing, of course. We are the United-Fucking States! Oh, and the GreatKhan is a bad guy. Worse, he's unpalatable to anyone who considers Human Rightsto be a priority.'
'That's not going to fly. They've got the chance to secure their flanks and getgood PR in the process.'
Tony: 'Fine. Can you find a way to hold them off for four days? That's all weneed.'
'Four days? What happens in four days?'
Tony: 'You don't need to know that. Get it done.'
'That's not how it works. They aren't relying on us to be their intelligenceresource. You are.'
Tony: 'Fine. Tell them we are moving forward with an effort in the UN to bringabout a peaceful democratic regime change.'
'Do you really expect them to care? Wait, you do realize they have satellitereconnaissance, don't you?'
At that point in our encrypted conversation with Addison, she began doing someintelligence research of her own. The US had only two tools in their immediatetoolbox: missile/drone strikes and carrier deployments. Wrangling UN sanctionsand the War Powers Act would take time and we'd see it coming.
Drone/missile strikes weren't ruled out, but the Khanate didn't play the 'onlytit-for-tat' game. You attack them, or their logistics, and they took that asan act of war and behaved accordingly. There were plenty of US military basesthey could strike. Plus the US needed the free flow of commerce through theSouth China Sea, not the Khanate.
The Mongol-Turkish regime could turn that body of water into an 'ExclusionZone'. That was the term for a blockade which, in turn was a euphemism for theKhanate giving fair warning to all merchant ships they could be fired upon at amoment's notice. Ships flying the Indian, Japanese, ROC, South Korean orVietnamese ensign would be okay. They were either allies, or potential allies.
Panama? Liberia? The Marshal Islands? The Khanate had more pressing things todo than worry about what those little nations (and their combined 40% of theworld's merchant ships) cared about them. Next question: how much was that babyinsured for? I was sure the guys and gals at Lloyd's of London would be buyingPepto in bulk if this came down to seeing who was the biggest bully on theblock.
Sure this was in the short term very bad for the Khanate ~ getting in ashooting war with the US. It was ugly in the mid-term as well ~ the US was theworld's leading economic power. In the long term, which was how the Great Khanthought, it was the only thing he could do. He could not let the US think theycould dictate Khanate international relations without serious consequences. Itwasn't how the Khanate operated. We all hoped the people around the Presidentunderstood that.
'You are not going to launch drone strikes, are you? They would see that as anact of war and behave accordingly.'
Tony: 'We are keeping our options open.' A 'no comment' would have meant 'yes'.
Addison mouthed to me 'Thank God'.
That left the carrier fleet deployment option. We guessed, incorrectly, thatthe US was going to place four carrier groups on the Khanate's back door. Thatwould be drawing a line in the sand. None of us believed the US governmentwould ever be foolish enough to come in with only one carrier, that they wouldleave the one in Japan and the Arabian Sea just sitting there. The US Navyposted on its web page the general position and activity of her various fleetelements. It was general knowledge.
'You can't possibly move in enough forces in place to deter them, Sir.'
Tony: 'You need to find us a way to delay the Khanate by two weeks. You are theexperts, do it!'
'Two weeks, what happened to thefour days?'
Tony: 'You work for me.'
'Very well, Sir. We suspect the Khanate will intervene in Thailand somewherebetween five and seven days. Waiting two weeks is unrealistic.'
'If the US and UN declare Thailand a 'No-Fly Zone', what is the likelihood theywill respect it?'
'Zero, zip, none. How could you possibly enforce that? You can't and they knowit.'
Tony: 'Yes we can. Would they challenge it?'
'Well, if you bring the'George H. W. Bush'into the AndamanSea, won't that piss of the Indians, and leave the Persian Gulf unguarded andISIS unmolested?'
The'George H. W. Bush'was in the Persian Gulf and would haveto sail around India (passed Indian's submarine fleet) to get into a positionto intervene from a body of water the Indian's considered theirs and theirsalone. We all knew President Obama had made a policy decision in the first partof August to punish ISIS and save the Kurds and Yazidis. Would he go back onthat pledge?
Tony: 'You don't need to know that.'
'If we don't know the level of the threat, we can't tell you what the mostlikely response will be.'
Tony: 'What would they do if we placed one carrier in the Gulf of Thailand?Two, three, four, or five?'
'One, two, they do nothing. You would need to form an alliance with at leastone other regional player, that isn't the Philippines.'
Tony: 'What is wrong with the Philippines?'
'They have hardly any air force and blue-water navy to speak of.'
Tony: 'What about the Republic of China?'
'They are a totally different matter, but what are you giving the Taiwanese tobetray the Khanate? The Khanate has recognized the independence of the ROCwhile we haven't. They've fought China while you haven't. It had better besomething good.'
Tony: 'What about Malaysia?'
'The Khanate and Malaysia aren't getting along right now. They complicate theirpugnacious attitude by being somewhat weak in the matter of offensive forcesthey can bring to bear. Their military is good, and small. What would you wantthem to do?'
Tony: 'That is not your concern.'
'Sir, if you begin opening negotiations with Taiwan, or Malaysia, the Khanateis going to find out. (Probably from us.) That's a fact.'
Tony: 'This is not your concern. Our East Asian experts know what's going on.'
'What about theTaiwan Relations Act Affirmation and Naval VesselTransfer Act of 2014 with the Collins Amendment?'
Tony: 'What about it?'
'If the administration would express support for it, it would go a long way tosolving all your problems. Let the Taiwanese and Turkey buy those frigates andmake it contingent on their goodwill.'
Tony: 'What does this have to do with the Khanate?' Groan.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Hell Rains Down.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
Senator Susan Collins of Maine, JIKIT's Congressional mentor, at our urging hadproposed an amendment to theTaiwan Relations Act Affirmation and NavalVessel Transfer Act of 2014which would allow 'Turkey' to purchase six'Oliver Perry class frigates for $10 million each. The same act alreadyproposed four such vessels to be sold to Taiwan for the same amount as well asgiving two to Thailand (and two to Mexico) free of charge. Things had immediately bogged down in the 113th US Congress. It was too easyfor Democrats in both Houses to take the President's position that anyadditional weapons into the South China Sea area would further destabilize theregion. The pro-PRC lobby was equally opposed to the bill. Under normalconditions, that would have been good enough to send the measure off to theprocedural graveyard. Except in the current contrary nature of the US's chief legislative body, thismeant Republicans found themselves drawn to the anything the White Houseopposed. They could claim they found the anti-Communist, anti-IslamicExtremists stance of the Khanate to be attractive to them though none of themfelt the need to actually talk to anyone in the Khanate to find out what theywere really all about. We were happy with that policy because true congressional oversight was thelast thing we needed. They might start asking uncomfortable questions like... 'Who gave you the authority to do any of the crap you pulled?' (No one. We lied like big dogs, purloined resources and cloaked ourselves in'National Security'. Plus we let our elite personnel have a crack at doing whatthey had so dedicatedly trained to do, wreck things.) 'Wasn't that, that, and that an act of war against the People's Republic ofChina?' ('No comment'. If that didn't work, we would try 'they will never find out'.) 'Why are 90% of all the names on these documents redacted? We are the freakingCongress! You work for us.' (Work for them? Not to our way of thinking. We earned our paychecks without anyslavish devotion to corporate campaign contributions. We were working so thatthe lives of Americans and Brits abroad would be that much safer, the worldmore orderly and for the US and UK to have an ally they could really rely on.We couldn't tell them that. They'd throw us in jail. We'd redacted the recordsbecause the names were for people that did not officially exist, or existed ina capacity that didn't imply they were elite warriors, spies and assassins.) Besides, ('Those are private citizens not in the employ of this group, or any othergovernment agency we are aware of'.) 'We don't care if they are private citizens. We want to know.' ('You don't want to know' followed by some major gobbledygook with the term 'deniableassets' interspersed relatively often.) 'What do you mean ~you don't want to know?We asked you aquestion.' (We meant you people leak information like a sieve and the people we areprotecting aren't going to be afraid of getting revealed. They are going tomurder people to ensure they are not ~ basically you don't know what is goingon and we don't want to tell you, for both our safety's sake.) So, ('Trust us. There are factors we are taking into account that you are unawareof because you don't know what's going on'.) 'Of course we don't know what's going on. That's why we are asking you.' ('Youreallydon't want to know.' We are your highly trainedand underpaid experts on this, we aren't raging assholes and we are telling youthat bad shit will happen if you force this, thus 'youreallydon'twant to know'.) 'What do you mean ~youreallydon't want to know??Yes, we do. We are warning you,' (Okay. Execute Plan B. 'Excuse us for a moment, {create a plausible lie.}'.) {Pregnant pause,} Congressman-type: 'It is rather odd that they all had to go into another roomto take that phone call.' {Minutes pass} 'Go see what is taking them so long.' 'What do you mean they are all gone? Find them!' 'What do you mean they seem have left the building? Find them!' 'Who do I call about this? The FBI, Homeland Security, or the CIA? And finally, 'What do you meanthey appear to have fled the country? Find them,damn it!' (Hey, I worked with some real shady characters.) Then would come the international manhunts, the flight to avoid prosecution andthen resurrecting my life under a different ID in another country whichhopefully had a dim view of handing me over to the FBI, or the Navy SEALs.
Would you choose ephemeral beauty, or rugged determination? Brief Segway :
'It has to do withgiving something to the Khanate if you expect them to do anything for you.' Tony: 'You can't appreciate how that is going to look. Besides, that is apolitical decision, way above your pay-grade.' (Not a good time to remind him that he didn't pay me.) 'What precisely do you want us to do? Please be specific.' Tony: 'How is the Khanate going to react to an intervention on the part of theUnited States?' 'They will ignore you.' Tony: 'What if the President makes public statement.' 'What is he going to say?' Tony: 'That the US is dedicated to a peaceful resolution of the unrest inThailand.' 'They won't care. They truly believe that actions speak louder than words. IfThailand requested our intervention, or was a client state,' Tony: 'A what?' 'Client state, a country beholding to the US, or UK for their externalsecurity.' Tony: 'I know what client state is. That is 20th Century Imperialist thinking.No one does stuff like that anymore. Besides, the UN is responsible for theexternal security of its member states, which Thailand is.' 'The Khanate doesn't see it that way. We won't let them into the UN, so theysee no reason to play by the UN's rules. The President can evoke the UN Charterall he wants. Unless he makes UN acceptance dependent on their cooperation,they will see no reason to cooperate.' Tony: 'That's not going to happen.' 'What part of that won't happen?' Tony: 'The President is not going on international television and endorsing theKhanate as a prospective UN member. What happens if we imply through backchannels that the President will support such an action at a later date?' 'You want us to lie to them? Do you have any idea how badly that willcompromise our working relationship with the Khanate?' Tony: 'We will deal with that later. Would they accept such a bargain?' 'So youaregoing to lie to them, Mr. Blinken, they will neverforgive this act of treachery.' Tony: 'No, you are going to lie to them.' Addison: 'I will resign. I suspect that the rest of the team will quit aswell.' Tony: 'What is wrong with your team, Ms. Stuart (Addison)? Can't anyone overthere do their damn jobs?' 'We are doing our damn jobs, Mr. Blinken. We are telling you this is adiplomatically fatal move that will not only reduce this taskforce touselessness, it will have long term consequences for all futureKhanate-American relations.' Tony: 'That is a ridiculous assessment.' 'That is our experienced assessment. They believe treachery is only forgiven bydeath. They do believe in loyalty and keeping one's word. In our country,perjury is an unfortunate side effect of the judicial progress. To the GreatKhan, it is reason enough to cut your head off.' Tony: 'Fine. I am ordering you to open back-channel talks with the Khanateconcerning their admittance to the UN contingent on them taking a reasonablecourse of action.' 'Even if we were to do such a moronic thing, the Great Khan will ask Cáeldirectly to verify this. It is that important to him and his state.' Tony: 'Okay.' 'Perhaps you could suggest to me what form of coercion I should employ to makeCáel to commit such a blasphemous act?' Tony: 'Tell him to do it. That is what we pay him for.' 'Mr. Blinken, Mr. Nyilas is an unpaid consultant. At the job he is onsabbatical from, he makes more money than I do. He has an Irish diplomaticpassport, been nominated to be the Prince of Albania, Georgia and Armenia, beenproclaimed a warrior-prince of Transylvania and is a hero in both Hungary andRomania. He has no brothers, or sisters. His parents are both dead. His onlysurviving kin are people he is not particularly close to. Since economic andsocial blackmail are off the table, I am asking you if you are ordering me touse enhanced interrogation techniques to exacting his cooperation in thisfoolhardy endeavor.' Tony: 'You mean torture him?' 'I would never go on the record using that word. I don't advise you to use iteither.' Tony: 'What kind of people are you?' 'The kind you engage to take on a mission of this delicate nature. You honestlydon't want to know what we've done in the name of our constituent nationalbodies. You employ us so that you don't have to know. As you said, we 'get itdone'. Until now, you have never asked us 'how' we got things done. You wantedthe intelligence so we got it for you.' Tony: 'No member of this administration ever asked you to violate US, orInternational Law.' 'Which is precisely why the government employs me, so that you can keep yourhands clean while mine are steeped in blood. Nothing our team has done willever blow back on you, so don't worry about that. Why don't we get back to ourcurrent dilemma?' (I think until that moment Tony had convinced himself that Addison was anothercivil servant drone and people like her only existed in the 'black bag'fantasies of conspiracy theorists, hackneyed movie scripts and questionable'true' spy novels. People like Addison and Lady Fathom weren't standard issueintelligence officers by any stretch of the imagination. They were almostunique in that they did what they did for the very beliefs they had sworn anoath to uphold, to serve their countries. There were no personal vendettas going on. No slush funds were vanishing intoCayman Island accounts. Neither had a God Complex. There was no desire forpersonal power, career advancement, or fame. I was beginning to think that waswhy Temujin used them, and me, because we could be counted on to do the rightthing when required and only when required. Addison and Fathom had damnedthemselves forever because someone had to pay the price and get the job done. Iimagined they really felt blessed for the opportunity. I worked with maniacs.) Tony: 'Thailand, yes. What if we put troops on the ground in Thailand?' 'How many?' Tony hummed and hawed so we had to guess. 'A Marine Expeditionary Unit? If that is all, they better have an exit plan.Sir, if you want to impress the Khanate with the White House's resolve, youneed to start landing troops from the Rapid Deployment Force starting tomorrow.Base aircraft out of Thai air bases. Threaten to ram any Indian Naval vesselsthat get in your way.' Tony: 'Is that what it would take?' ('Yes. It would take the US to growing some balls, damn it!' was not thediplomatic reply though it desperately needed to be said. Hey, I could be a bitof a jingoist when I feel the lives of my loved ones are in danger.) 'That is our current assessment of the situation. The Khanate has no reason totake any American threat of force seriously. They won't see anything short of afull-court press as nothing more than posturing for the home audience and whatallies we have left.' Tony: 'What does that mean?' 'It means you are taking the cooperation of Taiwan and Philippines for granted.Our people tell us they see American influence in the region waning and we havebeen letting the Chinese push them around. Now the Khanate appears and knocksthe Chinese back three decades on the World Stage. The Khanate is trying tocreate a ring of allies around the PRC and a few of them are curious why the USis dragging its heel about such a critical regional issue.' Tony: 'You don't dictate US foreign policy.' (No, we simply enacted foreign policy without your knowledge.) There were probably a large number of Special Forces operators who would beshaking their heads in bewilderment when they found out the US was trying toface down the Khanate over, of all places, Thailand. Hadn't they just bustedtheir humps trying to make the Great Khan see their nations (the US and UK) aspotential worthy allies? Working with the Khanate had been 'interesting'. If you asked them foranything, they got it for you, danger and consequences be damned. They'd tryanything for the men they considered 'brothers in the struggle'. If you werepinned down by fire from a hillside and asked for fire support, they wouldnapalm the whole damn mountain if that was what it took. The man/woman on theother end of that radio cared for your life, not the human rights of thescumbag shooting at you, or any of the people they might be hiding behind. You also know if they couldn't get it done, it was only because the resourcesdidn't exist. The Khanate Special Forces hadn't acted like co-belligerents, orallies. They treated you like their own kin. They would and had died to makesure some of them got home to their families. If ordered to, they woulddefinitely take the fight to the Khanate. I believed many of them would beasking what had it all been for. 'We wouldn't dream of it,' Addison lied. 'Good. You have your marching orders. Now get to it,' and Tony hung up on us.Everyone in the room was looking around. What exactly were our marching orders?Had I'd missed that part of our conversation? "Well," Fathom sighed, "there is only one thing we can do."I seriously prayed she would ask me to lie to Temujin. "Understood," Mehmet nodded. "Somehow we get the Khanate tolaunch their offensive into Thailand in three days." "Can they do that?" I blurted out. "They do it, or everyone in this room is in a shitload of trouble whenthey get around to it next week," Addison grinned. "The Khanate highcommand isn't going to back down just because we ask them to. I wouldn't if Iwere them." "What happens if they can't make the three day window?" I asked. "Then you call up your blood-brother and ask him to fuck over his nationto save us from lengthy prison sentences, or outright assassination,"Fathom smirked. "If he says 'no'," I looked into her eyes. "That's the real tragedy in all this, he won't," she gave me acomforting look. "He isn't going to leave you hanging in the wind. He'llcall off his attack dogs because he isn't the kind of man to fuck you overbecause it is politically expedient. I'm staking all our lives on that. Ialways have." The Black Lotus? We'd explain to them the ugly reality that neither of us couldafford to be painted into a corner over this Thailand issue. We were doing ourbest, but our political masters were dead set on making a colossal error and wehad to follow through with those directives. The Khanate would do everything intheir extensive power to support the Black Lotus and if they could invade inthree days with some nebulous chance at success, they would go. The Black Lotus, the entire 9 Clans knew JIKIT had no power except what wefinagled from the US and the UK. We had borrowed their resources to accomplishwhat we'd done. The Black Lotus had profited from some of those operations andboth the Khanate and JIKIT would owe them big, but we were good for it. Thattruism was why they worked with us. My personal problem was that I knew the Great Khan would not forgive, or forgetthis interference by the US. It wasn't in his nature. Worse, the politiciansand bureaucrats in Washington would see this as a victory and an expressionthat the US remained the globe's premier super power. Too few would rememberthe price of this sense of superiority would be born on the back of Thailand'smasses. The revolution would fail after a short, brutal civil war. The tyrantwould remain in power and the voice of the Thai people would be stilled. The end result of that late night phone call? We weren't told. What follows is pure conjecture on my part, fueled by intelligence informationprovided by other JIKIT resources and knowledge about how much the politicallandscape of Southeast Asia had been transformed by the PCR being driven backto their own coastline, leaving a power vacuum India, Vietnam and the Khanatewere eager to fill. 'Aren't you the same people who said only a week ago that sending more weaponsinto the region would only escalate tensions? And now you want to use ourairbases against our latest ally in the region? Do you understand how muchinternal political turmoil this will cause? Half of us are jumping for joy thatsomeone big and fierce embraces our independence. The other half think it istime to retake China. Yes, we mean the territory currently under the oppressive yoke of the People'sRepublic of China. Yes, the China the Khanate just kicked the crap out of. Thenation that might not be able to protect say, Zhusanjiao. That would be thePearl River Delta to you Westerners, that huge area on the mainland adjacent toHong Kong. Hainan is looking pretty ripe for conquest as well. That would bethat big island off the coast of, yes, we have indeed suspected you could reada map. At the moment we are expecting the permission of the Khanate to use WoodyIsland as a forward staging area and logistic base to help us do just that.Take Hainan, yes, that large island currently, and temporarily, under theillegal occupation by those illegitimate bastards in Beijing. What do you mean 'don't declare war on them'? We've been at war with thePeople's Republic since 1945. No, we are pretty sure we would recall signing aPeace Treaty with them. No, we can't 'get over it' either. Why are you evenasking us that? Don't you know our history? Anyway, if we help you, can we expect the same level of cooperation from you aswe are getting from the Khanate? In case things go sour, Yes, a shooting warwould qualify. See, your people at JIKIT have been helping the Khanate and us,your people, at JIKIT, we are pretty sure it is made up of Americans andBritish personnel. Why would we think that? Are you serious? Because that'swhat your governments told us, that's why. Besides, why are you asking us whatyour people have been doing? Don't they work for you? Speaking of the US government helping us out, what progress is there on theTaiwanRelations Act Affirmation and Naval Vessel Transfer Act of 2014? Wesure could use those vessels. While we are at it, how about sharing some of thetechnology used in the F-35. We'll build our own, or a model vaguely similar toit. We value your friendship and know you will help us out in a pinch. Right?' 'Sigh. If you really think this will help. By the way, aren't your fightersgoing to need some in-air refueling? What are you going to do if the Khanateengages them over Philippine airspace? What are you going to do if you get intoa shooting war with the Khanate? Will you defend us from their ballisticmissile threat? We have a long history as your allies, but the Khanate istotally ruthless, and they scare us. Can you hold our hand, say for the nexttwenty years?' (The Philippines rolls out their Wish List) Maybe you could give us some advanced fighters? We are a poor country and can't afford to buy any before 2018. We are not greedy, 72 F-16s will do and you are upgrading to the F-35 anyway sowe know you have some lying around. Could you also help us with the maintenancecost? We are a poor country, but very large. Some of your decommissioned naval vessels would go a long way in showing ussome love. One of those Tarawa-class amphibious assault ships would be reallynice and you've got theUSS Peleliudecommissioned and aboutto be scrapped. We have hundreds of islands in our Republic so moving stuffaround is pretty tough. Can you help us out? If you could toss in the ship's complement of 20 AV-8B Harrier 2 and 12 V-22Ospreys with a fifteen year maintenance package that would be even better! We are a poor country. We could never afford to buy any of that stuff. Maybe a frigate, or three? You have a dozen Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigatessitting around. We can finally retire some of our World War 2 relics and makeone our new flagship. We know you aren't going to give us one of those powerful nuclear submarines,but maybe you could secure a few loans so we could buy some of those niftyGerman-made, diesel-powered Type 214's. We hear they are pretty cool, verysilent and practically a steal at $330 million per boat! We love you guys! And,we are poor. Oh, and some helicopters! We were going to refurbish some Vietnam-era Iroquois, but since your MarineCorp is retiring the far superior Bell AH-1 SuperCobra, can we have a dozen ofthose instead? We were going to fix up some of our aging Sikorsky S-76s as air ambulances.Getting new ones would be far superior, don't you think? You also have those cool Blackhawks. You have so many. Could you spare us, saytwenty? You're the best! And some guns. And artillery. And some APC's. Did we mention we are a poor country going through an expensive forcemodernization program? Got any amphibious vehicles lying around? We could use a few of more of thosesmall unit riverine craft (SURC)'s we bought from you recently. They areexcellent counter-insurgency tools. You want us doing well fighting the War onTerror, don't you? Did we mention that we are a poor country? And we love you guys! We like this idea. Give us say a week to ten days and we can jump right in. You want to go in four days? With what precisely? Compared to the forceprojections you have been providing us, Who? JIKIT, of course. Who else wouldyou send us to when we requested intelligence on Khanate activities from you?Did we believe them? Why wouldn't we? They areyourpeople, When do you think Thailand will let us intervene? We've asked the PrimeMinister if he needs our assistance and he politely declined. Apparently hethinks he's got things well in hand. He does retain command of over 200,000troops and the opposition is much smaller. I hope you have better luck than wedid in convincing him he's in serious trouble. Also, what do you plan to do about the Indian Navy's South China Sea taskforce?It is pretty big, not something we can tackle on our own. Yes, we kind of need to know what you are doing before we decide what we aredoing. You do realize that the Gulf of Thailand is currently under the completedomination of the Indian/Khanate/Vietnamese Axis, right? 48 combat aircraft? What gave you that idea? The Vietnamese have beenrefurbishing their Mig-21's like crazy, using Khanate stockpiles, plus thereare nearly a 150 Su-22's. Sure, they are both older than manned flights to theMoon, but they can drop bombs, fire rockets and launch ground attack missileswith the best of them. They are still jet aircraft. Worried? You are aware that those antiquated pieces of crap can bomb thenorthern part of my country, aren't you? So 'yes', we are worried about those300 flying deathtraps being more than a 'manageable' nuisance. What about our air force? I imagine it will be doing what we trained it to do,defend Federation air space because I doubt those relics will be coming at usunescorted. We can already tell you that the Mig-29's and Su-30's the Khanateand Vietnamese will be flying are excellent aircraft. We fly them too, just notas many. Of course you can base your F-22's out of Sultan Ismail Petra Airport as longas you supply the logistical support. How many? A lot? Could you please be morespecific? Two squadrons? My, that's going to get pretty dicey. I believe youwhen you say the F-22 is a highly advanced stealthy fighter. I also believethat they are a lot less stealthy when they are sitting on the ground re-armingand refueling. Do we think they will really threaten us? Theyarethreateningus, over our Spratly Island claims, are you sure you know what you are gettinginto? By the way, when this blows over, do you think you can pressure theKhanate into giving us their Spratly island airbase? It is rapidly approachingcompletion and is over 3000 meters long.
How did they do that?They are dredging the ocean floor, it is a man-made island. Didn't yourgovernment protest the environmental damage they were causing? No, not the Khanate, the Chinese. Yes, the Khanate currently controls it. They stole it from the PRC hours beforethe ceasefire. So, can we have it? Yes, we know itbelongedto the People's Republic, but itdoesn't anymore. Besides, we both opposed it when the Chinese were dredging itup the island from the sea floor, so giving it to us isn't all that egregious,or unexpected, action. It would also go a long way in supporting our just andworthy claims to the Spratly Islands. We really don't want those greedyChinese, yes, both the People's Republic and the 'Republic of', or, thoseincompetent Filipinos to steal them from us. Both of us knocking the Vietnamese back on their heels will be going a long wayto getting those Communist knuckle draggers to back off as well. Hey, if theydo get antsy, can we also take the Vietnamese base in the Spratly's? It isn'tas big as the one the Khanate stole, but it is finished, and closer to us. Weare sure that if we help you out, you will do the right thing when the timecomes. Right? 'They want what?Have they lost their fucking minds? The Philippines is talking about a billion dollar aid package and guaranteedloans we doubt they can ever repay. We only want to use their air bases for amonth, maybe two, not deflower their teenage daughters. It isn't as if we arereally going to go to war with the Khanate over Thailand. Besides, the lasttime we 'got involved' like that, George Bush ran up a trillion dollar deficit,and his party was thrown out of office. Doesn't anyone care we are facing adifficult mid-term election in November? So, the Taiwanese think this is the appropriate moment to invade mainlandChina? And they want our help? Do they know how expensive that can get? Do theyunderstand how much that will unbalance the already shake state of Asian affairs?It is another land war in Asia for the love of God!' And, the Malaysians are going to help us, but not actually help us and theywant tens of billions square miles of ocean for the measly concessions they aremaking? What do they expect us to do with all the Filipinos, Chinese andVietnamese who already live there? What do you mean none of those islands are actually inhabited? They are justmilitary bases, some of them nothing more than rusting iron hulks on submergedreefs? OH, God damn it! Why don't we take the God damn Spratly Islands forourselves if they are that fucking important? We have a Marine Corp. Aren'tthey good at taking islands? I read about it somewhere. No, I'm not changing the damn mission. I'm venting because the world seems tobe inhabited with greedy assholes who can't appreciate peaceful discoursewithout trying to lift my wallet. Okay, okay, I've got this. We are going to form a new international commissionto resolve this Spratly Island's nightmare. Have the French chair it. They lovethat kind of stuff. Makes sure the Germans are on the commission too. They needto look less like money-grubbing douchebags after that fiasco over the Greekeconomic collapse. Then invite Russia, India and Pakistan. That will prettymuch guarantee nothing gets accomplished. That will allow us to keep our promises to those three leeches without havingto deliver anything and, when it fails, it won't be seen as my fault. (Groan)What we really need is new videos of Khanate soldiers bayoneting babies,another ISIS atrocity, or more indisputable evidence the Russian Army'sinvolvement in the Ukraine. The Great Khan really screwed us over Tibet (youknow, by allowing them to become a free and democratic society), Putin is anevil cuck (who most likely laughs at me behind my back) and another round ofIslamophobia-bashing to remind everyone how this is all Bush's fault. No wonder George spent so much time at Crawford Ranch. Navigating internationalrelations is totally thankless and no matter how rosy we paint the latesteconomic numbers, someone still finds a way to make me look bad. Oh well, ifthis blows up in my face, I only have two more years in this shooting gallery.Maybe then I might change my mind and decided I really was born in Kenya, or Indonesia.I really wish Hawaii was an independent country. I'd like to retire there ifthere weren't so many of those damn contentious Americans.
The US President wanted to run this operation on a shoestring, not engage in'nation-building', much less backing an invasion of anybody. In fact, he wastrying to stop an invasion.
The Philippines was a poor country. So what? It wasn't his fault. He had poorpeople in the US too and they cast votes.
Taiwan suddenly thought it could take on China? They were insane. Of course hewould be ignoring a major stated political goal of the ROC for the past 65years ~ reunification on their terms. Any high-level technological transferwasn't going to happen because if the Republic ran off the reservation, thePresident would bloody well be sure no one could trace that decision back toanything he'd done.
At least Malaysia was on board, sorta/kinda. They wouldn't actually be able tohelp until day ten, or fourteen and, unlike the Republic of China, they had asmall air force that might not be able to protect forwardly deployed troops. Ifhe ended getting of those National Guard yahoos killed his party would bemurdered in November.
For a split second, he wondered if he should attempt to make a personal call tothe Great Khan, potentate to potentate, except he had this sinking feeling thata winning smile and a handshake would be worse than useless. The man would lookhim straight in his eyes and start making demands. He would demand action andwhen the Leader of the Free World prevaricated, he knew the Khanate would callhis bluff.
And they would fight. The alternative was a grand spectacle of publichumiliation and that he could not accept. The US military machine would fightand they would win. They would win because he needed them to win, fast andclean and home for Christmas. Maybe he would authorize the mobilization ofthose California airmen. Just in case.
In the end, Secretary Kerry gave POTUS what he asked for.
The Philippines would let them use their country's bases for logistics andstrategic assets (aka bombers).
The ROC would extend their air umbrella out 200 km to the east, south and west,acting like a shield between the Khanate and US Pacific assets moving throughthe tight Formosan Straits.
Malaysia gave them an airbase from which they could strike into Thailand, orVietnam, Cambodia and Laos. The US Air Force would have the opportunity to belethally effective.
Had they known the sum total of the US commitment, they would have beenappalled. The Khanate did not fuck around.
One Carrier Strike Group,
Forty (maybe sixty) Air Force fighters,
Lumbering B-52's flying half way around the globe,
Hadn't they been watching the dogfights over China for the past month? Maybethey would like to dive down and examine the wreckage of the PLAN carrierLiaoningandsee just how it met its grisly fate?
Apparently not.
(I live, love and have loved)
"What are you doing here?" she got the preliminary nonsense out ofthe way. With the way she was dressed, I was an expected visitor. She wasexpecting some make-up sex. I was thinking 'paying for my past mistakes' sexbecause I was already seeing way too many women who required me to do thingsoutside the bedroom, non-sexual things. I had my dress jacket swung over my shoulder.It would only get in the way later.
"I brought you motorcycle over. You left it parked by my place," Ikept any appearance of lust, or glee off my face.
"It is one o'clock in the morning," she glowered.
"I was called into work. I'm on call 24/7."
"Let me guess, you can't talk about it."
"You wouldn't believe me if I did, so suffice it to say I was doing thingsI didn't want to do instead of coming over here, waking you up from a soundsleep."
"I wasn't asleep. I was angry," I pointed out.
"I apologize. Maybe I should have waited until morning." She didn'tthink I should have waited as long as I had. Keeping her waiting until morningwould have left her volcanic.
"I wasn't asleep."
"Your bike is in the parking lot across the street," I handed her thelot ticket.
"How did you find it?"
"There are only two places in my neighborhood that allows parking and thesecond one is poorly lit," I replied.
"And the attendant let you steal it?" she frowned.
"He knows me. I do a ton of business with him and it wasn't as if I wasdressed like your average carjacker."
"How did you start it?"
"Chaz showed me how to spoof the lock. He's got this spiffy lock-pick seton him."
"That he carries with him for such contingencies?"
"Hey, he's the spycraft professional. I'm the amateur who tags alongbecause karma is a bitch," I grinned.
"Did you ruin the ignition?"
"No. He's got this skeleton key thingy. I need to get me one ofthose," I added. See, I was drifting down the path to becoming a hardenedcriminal and she had to save me. Girls love saving bad boys from themselves.There is an entire literary genre devoted to the topic.
"Get in here," Anais barked. She emphasized that command by grabbingmy tie and dragging me into her room. Now I could ogle her in her bra, pantiesand dress shirt left open. As I said moments ago, she was expecting me. Anaishad thick, light-brown, just-past-the-shoulders hair with blonde highlights.Her dusky skin tone suggested some ancestral link to the South of France whileher deep green eyes suggested Celtic ties.
She was definitely someone I would describe as possessing an hourglass figure.She worked out just enough to stay fit, practiced judo (in and outside of thebedroom) and ate right. Her ass was the correct mix of firm and fleshy, herbreasts were pleasant without too much bounce and she sported broad, but short,nipples that liked to get bitten.
With her bare foot, she kicked the door shut, spun me around by my tie until Islammed, back first, into the wall in the short hallway that led to herbedroom.
"I repeat, what are you doing here?"
"I never actually apologized for how things ended up," I sodomizedthe truth. "Anais, I am truly sorry for how badly I fucked up our affair.I acted without a thought for the possible consequences, or thinking about howbetrayed you would feel. Can you accept my apology?"
"You came here to have sex," she declared. She stepped up tightlyagainst my body, her eyes boring into mine. I had around six inches on her soshe had to tilt up her chin to do so.
"That too," I shrugged.
"I ought to throw you out the window," she growled. We were on theseventh floor. The window didn't open and the safety glass looked alright.
"I'll go then," I nodded. Now to make her beg for/demand sex.
"You are not going anywhere," she snarled. Then she kissed me, atongue-grapple ensued and she finished things by biting my lower lip so much Itasted blood afterwards. I dropped my jacket. I was about to need both myhands.
"I think us having sex would be a mistake," I pushed her buttons. Iwasn't some wimp acquiescing to her demands. I was a free-willed being; astrong man who needed to be wrestled down and forced to perform.
She pulled me down into a second kiss. This was an 'I will leave you incapableof thinking about anything but me' kiss. Yes, I had names for kisses too. Theywere similar to naming the ingredients of a choice meal. I propelled her backuntil we slammed into the opposite wall. Anais was a tough chick and a bit ofbanging around was par for the course.
I cupped each ass cheek and pulled her up. She responded by wrapping her legsaround my hips. We were still kissing. Anais slipped her hands along my sidesbefore linking them up at the small of my back. She pulled me hard against herwhile she ground her crotch against mine.
"Clothes," she rumbled from deep within. As in 'why was I stilldressed?'
"Been a while," I taunted her. Since she was glommed on to me, I usedmy freed up hands to rip off my tie.
"Yes. I bet it hasn't 'been a while' for you," she sizzled.
"Long as in 5:30 this morning," I teased back. At this point in theforeplay that revelation was akin to throwing gasoline on a fire. I was beingan unrepentant dog and she was taking me to confessional, between her thighs.
"Bastard," she condemned me as well as the entire male side of thespecies.
"It doesn't mean I haven't missed you, this, us," I riposted. Sheretaliated by turning her humping motion into to more of a grind. Bad kitty.Bad kitty wanted to be spanked. Woot!
"You are never going to change," she dug her fingernails into myflesh. I yanked my shirt off.
"If I hadn't changed, you wouldn't be here," I reminded her whilenipping at her nose and lips.
"You are still an egocentric bastard," she growled.
"Hey, I always took care of your needs," I countered. I had. She knewI had and since she currently wanted me to take her to that higher eroticplane, she wasn't going to contest that fact. Instead, she began working hershirt off and in doing so, squishing her boobs against my chest.
Holding her tight, my left hand under her right buttock and my right hand onher mid-back, pressing her torso into mine. We dance through two slow circlesbefore crashing, side by side, on the bed. Anais rolled us over so that she wason top. I didn't let her get in a totally dominant pose, oh no. I had a kittyto take care off. I grabbed her firm ass and propelled her up until I was facefirst with her gusset.
I might not remember to check my bank balance, or the atomic number ofTechnetium (I once had a girlfriend who would rate my performance on theperiodic table in the midst of our fucking, I never made it higher thanCopernicium before she passed out), but I can recall the precise taste, textureand topography of every cunt I've had face to face contact with. I knew rightwhere to tongue-fuck Anais to twist her up inside.
Control-orgasm, control-orgasm, Anais was pig-headed and wanted to keepdictating our reunion. She also wanted to return to the level of sexual blisswe had shared so often before. Her compromise was to hump my face; really grindit in. Black silk underwear is an excellent medium for transferring force andwetness between partners.
She rubbed her love-nub against my upper lip/teeth while I did tongue-ups intoher cunt. She was wetter than Bangladesh in the rainy season. That was anindicator of some serious masturbatory sessions stopping just short of orgasmbefore I arrived. I had some aching sensations to play with and I wasn't cruel.I maneuvered a hand between her thighs, underneath the band of her underwearand exposed her vaginal opening to my fingers and tongue while keeping thatsilky feel for her clitoris.
"Rurr," she began growling from the depths of her diaphragm. That washow she always was, thundering like a female grizzly bear in heat. It was anexpression with deep subharmonic components that caused the heart to flutterand her flesh to shimmer with the vibrations mixed with her bodily sweat.
"Come on, Baby," I urged her on.
That pissed her off. She was trying to hold off her orgasm for a few moreseconds. My 'baby' crack shifted her resolve into anger allowing her climax tooverwhelm her.
"Rah," she howled. It didn't sound like a female coming to fruition.It was more akin to the sound European soccer hooligans made when their teamscored a goal. The muscles in Anais' thighs were strumming along like the cordsof a piano, her belly was undulating in and out, and her head had rolled backso that she was screaming to the ceiling.
The countdown was on. The people next door/across the hall/above or below uswould be waking up, think that someone had unleashed a wild animal in thehotel, figure out they were not immediately on the menu, then call the frontdesk, stating their fears as justifiable fact. Anais and I had been down thatroad before.
I gave Anais' flank a light smack to get her attention. Sure she looked back atme with simmering anger, yet she also knew the score. That had been round #1 ina nightlong bout of sexual conquest, rebellion and re-conquest. She drew herknees to her chest so she could pull off her damp panties in one swift motion.I worked off my shoes, pants, socks and underwear. While she soaked up my nakedflesh (muscles, scars and all), she retrieved the phone from the side table andplaced it beside her. She wouldn't want to break up our rhythm when the phonerang.
No romantic small talk interrupted our shared lust. She wanted that cock and Iwanted to give it to her. I moved between her inviting thighs while sheexamined me, her upper body uplifted by her arms resting on her elbows.Bite-kissing-biting resumed. I slowly pushed her head to the bed with the forceof my kisses and strength of my upper body pushing down on her. Somewhere alongthe way, I slipped into her.
Condom? Crap. I was slipping. I would have to pull out, because stopping to puta condom on would earn me some serious ferocity on her part. I plunged in.Anais placed her hands on my hips, claws beneath my kidneys, guiding my paceand power. I may have been on top, but she wasn't giving up on one ounce ofcontrol.
"Damn you," she hissed.
"Yes?" I leered.
"Fuck you."
"I'm working on it. Is there anything," I teased.
"Bastard," she looked away, "You remember how I like it."
"Whatever made you think I would forget?" I kept at it.
"Don't look so smug."
"I'm working on it," I looked smug. Anais dug her fingernails in. Ihad to be punished, just ask her.
"When do you have to go back to work?" she huffed.
"Six a.m. When do you have to go back?"
"I have two days off."
"Good to know," I stole a kiss from her lips painlessly. Good toknow.
(Painful dreams)
I edged back into consciousness realizing that I was not alone. The muffledsense of my surroundings informed me that I wasn't really awake. She sat on myside of the bed, feet on the floor, side to me.
"Good evening, Dot," I yawned.
"Good morning, Cáel," the Goddess Ishara let her melodic voice floatover me.
"Hold on," I interrupted her. I weaved as I leaned over, pawed at mypants (still trapped in the real world) and finally drew forth my offering.
"A fortune cookie," she chuckled. "I admire yourdedication."
"It is a simple enough request and I aim to please." I hesitated."We don't have much time, do we?"
"You are dreaming, not concussed, so we will be alright if we treadcarefully," she told me. "This time, I have no cryptic warnings, orspecious pieces of information. I am giving you a gift. Take my hand."
I did, not that I had much choice. We 'went', where to, I wasn't sure yet Isuspected we were skirting the Weave itself where concepts like Time andDistance had little meaning.
The Goddess released my hand and I stepped out of the fog brought about by theabrupt nature of our progress to see a woman sitting beside a pool, no, asunken bath. She looked up at our approach. Oh shit, it was,
"Cáel? You are Cáel, aren't you," she smiled. She stared at me withher blind eyes while waiting for my response with deaf ears.
"Yes, Tad
fi, I'm Cáel. How did you know?""I bear our shared life inside me," she graced me with her serenepresence.
"Ah, I was warned," I stopped myself. I was going to add 'this mighthappen'. That would be unfair as she appeared pleased with this alteration ofher life path. "I was warned by the Goddess that she had something to showme. How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?"
She put her hand overher lower abdomen and rubbed the spot with her palm. "Seeing you and giving you the news in person is enough," she glowedwith happiness. "Have you picked out a name yet?" seemed weak. "I will leave that up to you." "Oh, come on," I relaxed slightly. "This is something we aredoing together." "No, it is not, kind Cáel." "Just because she will most likely end up an Isharan doesn't," "No, Cáel. This birth will cost me my life. I am not destined to ever seemy daughter draw her first breath," she confided in me. "No!" I recoiled. "That's unfair." What else could I say?'I take it back. I shouldn't have listened to my Goddess and screwed you out ofwhat little life you had left.' "I am content with my fate, Cáel Nyilas Wakko Ishara. Our daughter will bethe first female of the Isharan line in nearly 1600 years. Rejoice that we havebeen confronted by Destiny and triumphed. The light of the Peacemakers willshine once more among our sisters." "It is not worth the cost of your life," I responded bitterly. Thiswas colossally unfair to all three of us. "That you grieve for the short time I have left gives me strength, knowingour daughter will grow up with a strong, caring father. I," I could sense Ishara close by my side. "You must go, my Cáel. We will next see each other in the Halls of ourAncestors. Take our daughter and raise her well. I have faith in you," shesighed pleasantly, as if I had sheltered her from the rainstorm with myumbrella. "We must go," Ishara whispered in my ear and then we left. I was backin the hotel room, looking down at the tears on my sleeping face and it hurt somuch. "You gave me that command knowing what it would cost her," I soundedso hollow, chin on my chest, eyes closed instead of looking at my feet. "We are not an easy people to love, Cáel. We are harsh. Endless centuriesof suffering, pain and mistrust have made us this way. Please understand thatwhat you see as one life passing is really one life coming into being. It is alife Fate would have denied the line of Ishara. I took you to meet Tad "Steal my anger why don't you?" I chuckled bitterly. "Can I evenblame myself for this tragedy? It isn't like you made me do anything. I did itbecause I wanted to and never gave much thought to the frail health Tad "Wake up. Keep living. If this news turns your heart, or fills your mindwith doubt, then both of us have failed you. Tad "I didn't say that," I exhaled sadly. "You openly grieved and let her comfort you. That is more of a 'goodbye'than most people are able to convey. She knows your heart. You were honest inyour sorrow. She saw that and that eased her suffering knowing that you are aperson who is free with their heart. For a woman who expected nothing butwickedness from men for so long, that was the ultimate gift. You did help her.You truly did." "I," I woke up. Anais was looking down at me, concerned. "You've been crying," she noted by touching my cheek with a fingerthen showing me the dampness. "Do you believe a person's soul can fracture?" I murmured. That sortof talk was unlike the 'me' she once knew. "Do you believe that another can help you put your soul back together ifthat happens?" I continued. "You are not talking about us, are you?" she studied me. "No. I'm thinking about being a parent, not just a father. Can I fuck thatup as much as I've screwed up so many of the other women I've cared for, am Igoing to be worthy of being a Dad?" "Oh, I don't know. You are not the man I knew two years ago. I think youhave changed for the better. You are still far from perfect yet, you seem to betrying so much harder than previously." "You think I'm going to screw things up, don't you?" "Yes. Yes, I do, but I also think you will only make the same mistakeonce. That is better than most men can hope for," she let her gaze soften. "This is us breaking up," "Yes. I think if I stayed, you would break my heart; and I am starting tobelieve neither one of us wants that," she nodded. "One moretime?" "I'd love to," I smiled at her. I still hurt. I was using sex tobandage my pain. Anais knew that and was giving me this unlooked for piece ofkindness. It was the best break up I'd ever had, or could ever hope for. {5:45 am, Saturday, August 30th ~ 9 Days to go} "You look like someone strangled your kitten," Pamela told me as Iexited Anais' hotel room. She was leaning against the wall across the hall. Ihad the feeling she had been there a while. Of course I hadn't been allowed towander off alone; most likely, Chaz had kept an eye on me until Pamela relievedhim. "I, I got Tad Pamela immediately dropped her casual fa "Ishara took me to her while I dreamed. I spoke to her, I guess because Iwas there in Ishara-space. She told me that the birth of our child will killher. What the fuck have I done?" I was near tears, damn it. "You work for bitches, top to bottom," Pamela stated firmly. "Ofcourse you weren't informed of any of this until after the fact. Do me afavor?" "What is it? I'm not about to throw myself off a building, again." "Don't let this tragedy bog you down. That is what Alal wants, to soil thegoodness and forgiveness within you. That road leads to only one place, beingas bad as he is. I've seen that capacity within you as well." "To be a rank-bastard?" "Precisely." "What do I do?" sounded so pathetic coming from me. "Cry. Weep. Remember you work for bitches, then laugh at them. You onlylose if you stop being you." "I hardly think being an irresponsible playboy is the appropriate responseto all of this?" "Hey. Don't hold back. I still have two ready and willing granddaughtersyou've promised to do something about," she chided me. I couldn't helpmyself. I snorted in amusement. I was Anakin Skywalker in the tent. I guessed Iwould be that forlorn soul for a while longer, except I had Pamela holding meback from the last few, fatal steps. {3:00 pm, Saturday, August 30th ~ 9 Days to go} "They want to do what?" I blinked. I was in Doebridge, connectingwith Aya and her Squirts. I hadn't asked to come here. Pamela decided ourdestination on her own initiative, and I hadn't come up with a convincingenough reason to jump out of the moving car. I didn't want to unload my woes onmy 9-year old Valkyrie. She was entertaining her friends with a weekend ofshooting bows and learning the best way to hobble a surprised foe, just normallittle Amazon-girl stuff. "Some people of your government want to talk to the Esteemed Oyuun T "In an official capacity? As ambassador from Kazakhstan? Or from theKhanate?" "I am unsure. That is why we want you there," he informed me. "In what capacity? Chief Ambassador of the Host? A member of JIKIT," "As the Great Khan's Blood-Brother." "Oh," I murmured, "This is because war is about to breakout," "Yes. We really cannot afford a fatal confrontation with the UnitedStates," Iskender told me. "But if I make a deal in the Khan's name, it doesn't look bad for OT orTemujin, and if we are rebuffed, it isn't egg on their face either," Ireasoned. "That is my belief. You are regarded as the Great Khan's chaotic kinsman,someone tolerated for his eccentricities while being close to the Great Khan'sheart, for a very good reason." Yeah, I had saved his life. More to the point, five Amazon augurs had died sothat he might live. To the Mongol-Turkish Empire, that carried an incredibleweight. Things such as either being named, or nominated asMagyarorszages Erdely Hercege, Prinţul Ungariei şi Transilvaniei, Mbret Okay, that was somewhat untrue. Hungary and Romania thought I was quaintlyinsane for accepting the Great Khan's claim that I was the Prince of Hungry andTransylvania, but Albania, Armenia and Georgia were far more serious about myhonorifics. In those nations, there was some traction to give the 'office' of prince thepowers of a 'powerless' head of state, now that they were part of the GreaterKhanate Empire. Essentially, I was to show up, give the Great Khan's blessingto their respective elected governments and then 'rubber stamp' their governingcabinets. On the plus side, I liked Albanian food and both Georgia and Armeniahad year-round skiing. "When do you want me to show up?" "That is an issue. We need to meet on neutral ground where we are notlikely to be noticed," Iskender hedged. "We could call Addison and have her arrange something." "The Esteemed Oyuun T "Ah, I live in a hole in the wall, Iskender," I pointed out. "Define a hole in the wall." "Two modest bedrooms, a kitchenette, one bathroom and a living room that onlyallows one sofa and one weight set, small." "With the money you make? Why?" he wondered. "When I got the job three months ago, it was all I could afford. Sincethen, I haven't had the time to house-hunt," I explained. "Besides, Ilike my roommates." "Who sleeps on the sofa?" "Not you too," I griped. "Odette sleeps with me, unless mycompany minds. Then she sleeps with Timothy, unless he has company, Timothy isgay." "Aahh," "I'm not gay or bi-sexual, Iskender, if that is what you are worried about,"I cut that line of thought off. Some cultures frowned on homosexuality and thiswasn't time to make a fruitless stand for alternate lifestyles. "I'm sure no one would think that of you." 'Because I was a renownedman-whore' was unstated. "Do you still want to meet at my apartment?" "Yes. This is a spur of the moment deal. Are you amenable?" "I need to get back and get things ready ~ say an hour?" I offered. "That would do nicely. Thank you, Cáel." "We are all on the same team, right?" I sighed. "We are glad you feel that way. We do appreciate it. I will see you in anhour." "You've got to go?" Aya asked. "Yeah. Work." "It's okay. Stop burying yourself in the results of Tad I had gone to see her because I wasn't sure I could make sense of it talkingwith Timothy. And Odette would try to comfort me with sex, which would onlycomplicate having sex with her later. Girls rarely let shit like that go.Everyone else I knew, had ulterior motives. "And here I had hoped that we could partake of some oyster hunting,"I teased her. "If they corner me, I'll tell Elsa you tried. I'll see you Monday night.After all, this will be our last Monday together until, you come back," shegrinned up at me. Done, This Monday was the start of the last week of my Havenstone internship.I'd nearly run the gauntlet and survived. Monday night/Tuesday morning of thefollowing week I would be heading somewhere, meeting up with Felix and forging somestrategy that had us winning the Great Hunt. For me, it was a matter of prestige. For Felix, it was a matter of freedom.Katrina had worked out a compromise. Felix would become the property of theHouse that captured him, though he would still be allowed to work atHavenstone. Essentially, we would be surrendering up his genetics. For Felix,it would be a permanent thing. If we won? Respect for House Ishara wouldincrease and Felix would be free to choose any woman that wished to share hisimmaculate heritage. "Good hunting, Dumu," I pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped herlittle arms around my waist. {Dumu = daughter} "Mamitu. Find it in yourself to forgive Ishara, and then you can forgiveyourself," she smiled. "So how did you become so wise?" I felt a tiny bit of the weightlifted from my chest. "I have a very bright father," she teased me right back, "and aneven smarter aunt." "Stinker." I grunted, Aya giggled and I separated on that happy note to make my way back to mycurrent means of conveyance. "Well, that was fast," Pamela remarked. "Work." "I haven't received a notification," she worried. "Special, off-the-books, Khanate stuff. Temujin wants me to help himout," I confided. Both of us knew this was stuff we might not be able totell our companions on JIKIT about. Not good. We needed to trust one another. "That guy better start ponying up some tangible benefits." "What do you suggest?" I mused as she started the engine and pulledout of the parking lot. "A few guardians would be nice. His personal phone number. Vast tracks ofland in Kazakhstan, worked by serfs," she suggested. "Beautiful, scantily clad serfs?" "Are there any other kind? They will fit in well with your femaleMongolian bodyguards," she chortled. "Actually, a few more males in the bodyguard wouldn't suck," Icountered. "I have an annoying habit of attracting gorgeous females whowant to sleep with me." I tried to keep the bitter tone from my voice. "Atta boy," Pamela punched my arm. "Don't let the pain drag youdown. As you told me, she's not angry about her fate. Being an Amazon, Ibelieve she feels honored. The life of augurs is rather thankless and theirdoom is ignored by the majority of our 'sisters'. I don't think you will everlet that happen." "Not now," I agreed. "Thought of any names?" Names for my unborn daughter, the first of what appeared to be my manychildren. Holy Hell, what had become of my life as an unreliable cad, awomanizer and a disappointer of women? "I was thinking of naming her after her mother," I replied. "Don't do that to her. That's a legacy I wouldn't wish on any daughter,being an augur." "Shala?" "Where did that come from?" Pamela asked. "The Sumerian Goddess of Compassion," I enlightened her. "That's nice," Pamela gave me a tender look. She really was myspiritual triplet, Aya being our best third. "Of course, if you chosePamela, I won't be insulted." "What," and she punched me in the shoulder. I was about to say 'whatabout a legacy I wouldn't wish on,', but she knew that. Note: A brief recap of what's gone wrong with the world: Once upon a time there was a Mongolian chieftain named Temujin. He united hispeople (the Mongols), took the title of Genghis Khan and began the creation ofthe largest land empire that ever existed. He wasn't calledKhagan,Yekhe Khagan, or Khaan(which means emperor/Great Khan/Khan of Khansin Turkish-Mongol parlance) until after his death. In his time, he was such abad-ass that he didn't need any honorifics. Temujin died. Normally, that would have been the end of that, but Temujin wassomeone special. After his death, a secret society called the 'Earth and Sky'came into existence to prepare for his return and the rebirth of his empire. He did indeed, come back. He came back several times, in fact. Each time, he judged the time was not yetripe to reunify the peoples of Central Asia, so he died and the next generationof the E&S prepared for the next incarnation. Twenty-two years ago, Temujin was born yet again. He recalled his heritage and setabout determining if the time was ripe for his public resurrection. This time, there were other people besides the E&S waiting for him. Theywere a rival secret society called the Seven Pillars of Heaven (the 7P). Theyhad figured out a way to uncover his location and planned to kill him for good.That would have allowed the 7P to bring all of Asia under their mantle. Earlier this year, a group of Amazon augurs reached into the Great Unknown,discovered the 7P's nasty little plan and passed that knowledge to the others.Five augurs paid for that knowledge with their lives. It was not in vain,, oneof the surviving augurs, Tad Said knucklehead took that piece of knowledge to the New York City head of theEarth & Sky and gifted him with Temujin's precise location as well as thefact that the 7P's were closing in on him. Thus Cáel saved Temujin's life andTemujin was very grateful. Temujin, along with the E&S, immediately launched an attack against thelittle known region of China known as Aksai Chan. The People's Liberation Army(PLA) reacted confidently in this opening action of war, and saw theannihilation of much of the PLA's mobile forces along the Kazakhstan-Chineseborder. That however was only a highly visible diversion. The real 'first strike' wason the People's Republic of China in the form of an anthrax attack in severalwestern Chinese cities. The plan was to prompt the Chinese to initiate preventativevaccine inoculations for their military and security forces, because theE&S had lethally compromised the PRC's vaccine system. So the PRC actuallygave the anthrax bacterium to their own forces. A multitude of Chinese soldiers, airmen and sailors died. The E&S alsosubverted the governments of Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstanand then announced the creation of a new Central Asian state, colloquiallyknown as the Khanate. Bad things continued to happen to the PLA and the PRC. Soon,Azerbaijan, Tajikistan, Turkey and Turkmenistan joined the Khanate. Khanate forces, organized intotumens(units of 10,000 men),rapidly overran all of the regions and provinces of Gansu, Nei Mongol, NingxiaHui Autonomous Region, Qinghai, and Xinxiang Uyghur Autonomous Region as wellas most of Yunnan and over half of Sichuan provinces. At the same time, with the aid of the afore-mentioned knucklehead, the Khanatemanipulated Russia into 'intervening to preserve order', aka 'stealing',Manchuria (the provinces of Heilongjiang, Jilin and Liaoning), thus denying thePRC of major industrial and petroleum centers. Temporarily unable to defendthemselves, the PRC agreed to a six-month cease fire on August 20th. In theclosing hours before the ceasefire took effect, the Khanate also managed toseize every island outpost of China in the South China Sea (excluding the bigisland of Hainan). After the ceasefire, the Khanate managed to convince Albania, Armenia andGeorgia to join the Khanate because (for the second two) being caught betweenmilitarily powerful Turkey and oil-rich Azerbaijan had them nervous and theKhanate's offer of union was hard to pass up. A coup in Afghanistan droppedthat country into the Khanate's lap as well. At the start of the crisis, the United States and the United Kingdomdesperately needed insight into the changing situation in Asia, so they formedJIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce). For convoluted reasons,this group include the same knucklehead referenced earlier as well as a dozenhighly qualified intelligence experts and Foreign Service operatives. JIKITbroke all kinds of rules, laws and guidelines in creating a mutually supportiverelationship with the Khanate, up to and including sending Special Forces operatorsfrom their respective countries into the PRC to help the Khanate forces. Unknown to the two governments they supposedly work for, JIKIT formed allianceswith not only the Earth & Sky, but also the Amazons, the Black Lotus (theChinese secret society resisting the 7P's) and the 9 Clans (a coalition of theworld's best assassins, which included the Black Lotus and the Seven (now Six)Families of the Ninja). In doing so, JIKIT became involved in a shadow wargoing on between their allies and the alliance of the 7P's and the Condottieri(aka 'Global Mercs are Us'). Anyway, using the Paracel and Spratly Island holdings as a springboard, theKhanate formed an alliance with India and Vietnam who were bent on dividing upthe area's oceanic resources before the PRC could return to prominence. Inorder to secure their frontiers, this regional group has become involved withthe popular rising in Thailand (see Chapter 42) on the rebel side. A civil waris about to break out and now the world was holding its breath because the USwas threatening to become militarily involved on the side of the Thaigovernment forces. Which brings us to my apartment. Note: End what's wrong with them world. {4:00 pm, Saturday, August 30th ~ 9 Days to go} "Hey Anais, what are you doing here?" flowed from my lips before Iengaged my brain. I was in a rush. Her brow furrowed slightly as she stood up. She had been sitting in thehallway, her ass on the ground and her knees up. "You gave me neither your phone number nor my Serge," she explained.She looked past me to Pamela. "My bad. My private number is 917-555-7399 (that's (an area code of NYC),(Hollywood nonsense), sexy for the curious. We can get your Serge rightnow," I said as I slipped past her. "You would be the spiritual grandmother & retired assassin?" shelooked over at Pamela. "You must be something people have sex with, then get accused ofbestiality," Pamela zinged right back. "You are rude," Anais's eyes narrowed. "And you have made the mistake of bringing an attitude to a gunfight,Princess," Pamela mocked her. "Pamela, don't," I pleaded. "But she's French," Pamela smirked. "I hate the French." "She's Quebecois, not French. And since when have you hated theFrench?" "Since about five seconds ago. It came over me like a premonition, ormaybe a past life experience." "Who were you Lionel of Wandomme?" Anais refused to give an inch forthe sake of civility. Pamela was a hopeless case, which pretty much definedAnais as well. (Ole Lionel was the nobleman who took the surrender of Joan ofArc) "No, I was Pierre Cauchon," Pamela grinned. "Who?" I worked my key into the lock. "He was the Bishop of Beauvais," Anais enlightened me. "He wasthe man who condemned Saint Joan to the flames." "How do you know that?" I unlocked the door. "She has a well-developed knowledge of hypocrites," Pamela snorted. "I learned of him when I studied how religious/political views can lead toa miscarriage of justice." "Pamela, stop, please," I groaned. "Why?" "Because I love you?" "That's pathetic," Pamela shook her head. "Because you like me?" "I love you more than I do my own grandchildren. And I am forever pickingon you for your own spiritual growth, of course," she snickered. "Cáel, how do you know this woman?" Anais turned her anger on me. Iwalked into my apartment, Anais and Pamela continued eyeing each other, neitherone wanting to turn their back on the other. Anais was doing it because Pamelawas dangerous. Pamela was doing it because she had the inexplicable desire tomake Anais miserable. "She's my knife instructor at Havenstone." "Have you ever stabbed a person?" "Perhaps. I've hit my fair share and shot a few. I like to think I haven'tstabbed anyone who didn't derserve it. Besides, I prefer tomahawks." "Tomahawks? You prefer to hit people with tomahawks instead ofknives?" "He's a lousy student," Pamela teased. "Pamela, give it a rest," I sighed. "Anais has decided to stopsleeping with me. We are trying to part on amicable terms." "She's giving up that cock? I don't think so," Pamela shook her head. "You speak from experience?" Anais glared back. "I speak from the experience of seeing women fight over him,Baby-cakes." "My name is Anais Saint-Amour." "I know that. I chose to denigrate you instead," Pamela responded. "Why are you acting like this?" Anais frowned. "What have I everdone to you?"
"I'm doing itbecause he cares for you and that's counter-productive to what he should bedoing," Pamela stated. "What? He loves plenty of women." "No. He loves one woman, but she has set him adrift, so he meanders fromwoman to woman who want to 'change him' and 'make him a better man', as if thereal Cáel wasn't good enough," she gave a blistering retort. I was busy retrieving her clothes bag and boot box (so they didn't get dusty). "Who does he love?" "It isn't love like you think of it. It's not a burning romance. It is thelove of companionship and mutual respect and I am afraid he'll never recapturethat level of devotion and passion," Pamela continued. "Who is she talking about?" Anais asked me. "Kimberly," I said sadly. "She taught me to, Damn Pamela,"I looked to my current mentor because she had reminded me of the woman who hadhelped create the man I was today. Dr. Kimberly Geisler had shown me that Ishouldn't be ashamed of who I was. People only became screwed up if they allowed events to screw them up. Personalresponsibility and acceptance, that I could be a somewhat selfish prick whothought with his cock more than his head, yet never abused a lover even thoughI'd let far too many women down. No jealousy. No emotional regrets. And fleshhealed. I missed Kimberly, but there was no going back, to college, or the boy I hadonce been. I could be a bang-up Dad if I passed those lessons on instead ofmoping about a tragedy beyond my control. I could forgive Dot Ishara nowbecause she was who she was and expecting her to change for me was the ultimateact of selfishness. Learn, grow, move on. "Thanks Pamela," I whispered. "You are welcome, Wakko," she replied softly. She was close to tears,as was I. "What am I missing here?" Anais looked from one to another. "I'm not going to be a good father if I try to be what I think a fathershould be. I need to be the man I am, to be truthful and trusting others to letthem find their own way without foisting my expectations on them." "This isn't about me, is it? This is about your nightmare," Anaisreasoned. "Bingo," I smiled compassionately. "You may be the very bestinvestigator I've ever met." "I apologize Anais Saint Amour. Sometimes Cáel need to be tricked in orderto teach him a life lesson," Pamela grinned. "You are still rude," Anais griped. "And you are still thinking about how much better your life would be withCáel in it." "On that sour note, Anais, here is your stuff as promised," I handedher the gear. "In a hurry?" she inquired. "I'm expecting company," I said. "What's she like?" Yep. Abysmal trust issues. "Why do you think, no, it is business," I promised. "Mr. Nyilas?" A woman asked from the door we'd left open. "Oh crap," I groaned. She was pretty damn sexy with her closely-cropped black hair and an aura thatexpressed 'I'm physically fit, living healthy and feel comfortable lying topeople about what I do for a living'. She was wearing a long coat, despite it being summer in NYC. She'd also broughtsome friends who I couldn't see yet. "Yes, that would be me," I bowed to the inevitable. "Who is she with?" Anais glowered. "CIA? SVR RF (that would bethe Russian CIA)? Interpol? Spector? The 2nd Department of the PLA GeneralStaff HQ (that would be mainland China's CIA/DIA)? The World Crime League (lookit up)? I seriously doubt she is with SCRS (that would be theServicecanadien du renseignement de s Damn it! Why was I still getting the 3rd degree? Hadn't we broken up? "My guess is the DOD," Pamela mused. "Most likely the DefenseClandestine Service." The stranger's mouth gaped open for a second. She might have recovered fastenough, had I not worked with an insane warrior culture. "Anais, this is work. You need to be going now," I insisted. "Here Anais, have a gun," Pamela pulled one from her lower back."This is going to be a ballet worth remembering." "Who are these women?" the stranger asked. Her visual clues confirmedthere were people behind her in the hall. "Pamela, rogue octogenarian paramilitary insurgent," I made theintroductions. "Anais is a Jedi vigilante mime." Blink. "They are my bodyguards." "I am not your bodyguard," Anais snipped. Hey, she was pretty anddangerous enough to qualify, plus she had the 'beat me like a little bitch'down pat. "Hush," I chided. "Mimes don't talk." Anais took the offered gun. "Don't make me shoot you," Anais hissed. "Youreallymake a lousy mime," Pamela joked.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Diplomatic Hell Hole.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
"Are we in theright place?" the stranger worried. "I'm afraid so. Anais, you need to leave." "Not until you tell me what is going on here," she sizzled. "She's not here to have sex, if that's what you worried about," Iretorted. "Wait, are you here to have sex with me?" "I barely know you." "That rarely stops me," I muttered. "He's a master of bedroom antics," Pamela praised me. "He'spretty much at a loss at doing anything else." "Thanks Grandma," I griped. "Your welcome, Grandson." "We, are here to meetsomeone," the stranger hedged. "You came to the right place," Pamela preempted me. "He'sdefinitelysomeone." "Fine, redo. I'm Cáel Nyilas," (deep breathe), "NOHIO,HCIESI-NDI, U HAUL,Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercegeplus abunch of other honorifics that have yet to be confirmed. I am single-handedlybringing back medievalism to the center of Europe and the Near East. The womanto my left is Pamela Pale, and she really is my bodyguard. The woman to myright is Sgt. Anais Saint-Amour, RCMP, my ex-lover and the person that needs toleave right now." "I'm not sure I should leave at this moment," Anais shiftedpossessively. I had to recall earlier this morning, the part where we'd brokenup by mutual consent. Yep. That had really happened. I had thought I waswhittling down my current list of paramours. Why do the Goddesses hate me so? "Told you, she can't give up that cock," Pamela whispered. "As you can see, I have limited control of my life," I told thestrange woman. "I know you are here to meet somebody who isn't me. Now youknow who I am. Who are you and your companions?" "I'm Ms. Quincy." "Sorry; I'm on a first name basis with everyone I meet," Iinterrupted. "What's your rank, Honey?" Pamela added. "What makes you think,?" "She doesn't think. That's what makes her so dangerous." I explained. "Hey now," Pamela faux-complained. "Okay. She's a fledgling telepath, or medium," I shrugged. "Captain, Zelda Quincy." "In case you are mesmerized by her tits," Pamela tapped me,"she's packing some serious hardware." "One of those personal defense gizmos?" I leaned Pamela's way. "Close, but no cigar. She's my kind of girl, big 'bang-bang', back-up atthe small of her back and knife in her boot." "What!" Zelda gulped. "She's his knife-fighting instructor," Anais answered drolly. "Are you Special Forces?" Zelda regarded my mentor. "Nah, I got kicked out for a consistent failure to observe even theloosest Rules Of Engagement. I'm a free-spirit." "Oh, you're a sniper," Zelda nodded. "I like this one," Pamela smiled. "Ah, thank you." Then, over her shoulder, "I think we are in theright place." Zelda entered the room, followed by a Hispanic panther of aman (kind of like a tanned, slightly shorter Chaz without the cool accent)wearing a long coat, and a Subcontinent-cast woman who looked at everyone as ifshe expected us to sprout fangs, or start quoting the Koran any second now. Sheobviously was a brain seconded to this mission very much against her will. The fourth person had that cagey 'when my lips move, I'm lying' look whileseemingly unhappy with her current assignment. The heavy implication was thatthe lady was a career diplomat. Considering our current company and who we weretalking to, she was State Department. She was in her late 30's or early 40'sand giving off the sensation she had devoted so much to her career that she wasstarting to wonder if that was all that life had to offer. The fifth member was a military man clearly uncomfortable about what he wasdoing here, thus not a spook. His off-the-rack suit wasn't terrible, so heexpected to socialize somewhat while performing his duties. He also looked likea man who expected other people to speak half-truths and obfuscated lies aseasily as they breathed. Numbers three, four and five were dressed for theweather and unarmed. All of this meant they were good at what they did, though they probably didn'tknow the particulars of what was expected of them. They had their marchingorders. Those orders were about to be made irrelevant in the company they wouldbe keeping. The latter weren't the 'doing it by rote' kind of people they wouldnormally be dealing with. "I bet you she's a doctor," I murmured to Pamela, "she's withState and he's some sort of Foreign Service type." "I bet the first guy is Air Force," she countered. "Like one of those Para-rescue guys?" "No. More like one of those Battlefield Air Operations guys, I'mguessing," she corrected me. "That guy?" I nodded to the final guy. "Pentagon wonk?" "More likely he's one of those embassy guys. I'm going to take an educatedleap here, Office of Military Cooperation, Mongolia?" "That is pretty clever of you. Kazakhstan. Major Justin Colbert." "I bet some people in the White House, Pentagon and Langley aredisappointed with you right now," I reasoned. His jaw grew tight. "Don't worry, Major," Pamela grinned. "We consider that a goodthing. We don't like the people in charge and have a low opinion of theiropinion on just about everything, including their habit of blaming theblameless for their government's fuck ups." "Who are these people?" the first man whispered to Quincy. "She's a telepath." That was Zelda "She's a psychic-medium." That was Anais. "She can see through time." That was me. "Nice to meet you. Whoare you?" "Chris Diaz. Lieutenant Colonel, USAF." "Dr. Saira Yamin," the second woman introduced herself. "AsiaPacific Center for Security Studies. Are you the man from JohnstonIsland?" "Why yes, yes I am," I beamed. "The APCSS is in Waikiki, Hawaii," Pamela educated me. "Yourarrival probably cost her some prime surfing time." "I was more interested in the fact that he survived a plane crash in aCategory Four Cyclone," she admitted. "Mother Nature hates me. No matter how hard I try, she refuses to killme," I confessed. "My suffering is an endless source of amusement tothat bitch." "That, that wasn't the helpful answer I was looking for," shestammered. "So, Lt. Colonel Chris Diaz, you must be with JSOC, I have a deep andabiding respect for you guys. If you need something, just ask," I greetedhim. "Captain Zelda, you are not with JSOC." "She's with the DCS ~ that is the Defense Clandestine Service,"Pamela kept going. "Zelda, you love being in your uniform, you're proud,yet happy with the concept of dying in an unmarked grave for Constitution andCountry. You are too old to have been in the first female class at RangerSchool, so that means no 'in the field' JSOC for you. You've gotten around thatstone wall by joining the US Defense Department's own little pack ofkillers." "Also, you felt it was necessary to bring a Benelli M4-11707. That's aclose-in action shotgun, but a bit over-kill considering the paper-thin wallsin this building. That tells me you are used to being in the kinds of placeswhere such a tool is a necessity. Or in other words, since you think you aremeeting a band of terrorists, you brought along your favorite toy." "Your personal weapon is a SIG Sauer P229R DAK in .357 which is a newweapon still under trial by the US Army and Air Force. Your boot dagger is ceramicso it will pass a cursory exam, or scan. You hate the idea of being trapped ona public aircraft weaponless. You have also given up killing power for a properbalance for throwing. I like a forward-thinking gal." "Air Force ~ you've recently come back from Asia, most likely Tibet. Itshows in your breathing brought about by a close call with Altitude Sickness.The only reason for an Air Force guy to be here is because he's familiar withthe Khanate military and you are not US Army, or Marine Corp Special Forces. Iknow the type." "You went with the MP5K in the standard 9mm, so you are more interested insending bullets down range than looking into someone's face as you kill them.You may be a 'light' Colonel, which means you are almostsomebody.What your higher-ups haven't appreciated is that our guests will respect youbecause they are like that ~ remembering past friends and comrades in arms. Ofgreater importance, you have Cáel’s gratitude which will count for more thanyou currently believe." I pledged then and there to be as good as Pamela at determining that kind ofstuff before I died. She had assured me it was as much a matter of psychologyas eagle-eyed perception. People were often a type that gravitated to variousforms of destruction, be they old school, or going for the latest gadget. "I told you all that firepower was excessive," State softly chastisedher associates (what they really were, not the underlings she saw them as). "So, you appeared to have forgotten to tell us your name," I regardedthe State lass. "Nisha Desai Biswal. I'm with the government." "Oh, Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asian Affairs,I've examined your website," I told her. It clearly pissed her offsomewhat that I so swiftly disregarded her crude attempt at subtlemanipulation. "Hey. I've got some real enemies at State, so it pays to know who might bethe next suit trying to cock me over," I explained. I had to prioritize.It would take some serious effort to convince Zelda to have a MFF three-waystraight out the gate and she was definitely the hotter number. "Major, you came here unarmed," Pamela noted. "That won't do.They expect you to be armed because you are a warrior, damn it. Cáel get himone of your Glock 22's." "Gotcha," I nodded. I went to my room, tipped away the false back tomy closet (that Havenstone had installed recently so Odette wouldn't accidentlyfire off one of my weapons) and retrieved one of my spare Glocks, but not theone with the laser sight. Such over-the-top fancy gear would be inappropriate.I only gave him one mag. If he couldn't get the job done with 15 rounds, hewouldn't have a chance to reload. Mind you, I took two in a twin-rig shoulder holster and four 22 roundmagazines, because I tend to shoot two-handed which doesn't exactly give you abullseye every time. I returned to our crowded living room, handed the Majorhis weaponry, and then directed the US group to the far side of the room(towards Timothy's bedroom. Saira and Nisha took the couch. Because this tiny space wasn't crowded enough, there was a knock at the door. Ichecked. It was Juanita, oh yeah, my real bodyguard. "Listen up everybody," I announced to the room. "This is myother bodyguard, my official one. Her names is Juanita Leya Antonio Garza,she's from the Dominican Republic via Buenos Aires and she is armed, so don'tfreak out." I opened the door. "What is going on?" Juanita hissed. "I'm having a private meeting with a few heavily armed friends. The otherside to this party hasn't arrived yet. Why don't you come in?" She camein. "Why didn't you warn me?" she whispered her complaint. "Long night, worse wake-up, needed to do some soul-searching. Pamela waslooking after me, then this came up and I forgot. I apologize," I loweredmy head in shame. Juanita was only trying to do the job she'd been entrustedwith and by not thinking of her, I was making that so much harder. I made the introductions, first names only. "Juanita, Anais, Pamela; please slip into the kitchenette," Isuggested. Anais "Why?" Juanita "Where are you going to be?" Pamela "Sure. I'm starving. I'm going to raid the fridge." "Anais, because I need my faction in one place. Juanita, I will berefereeing this meeting, so I will have to remain in the living room, roughlysix feet from you." It was really a small apartment. "Pamela, if itis edible, it isn't mine and you'll have to replace it." Great Caesar's Ghost! No wonder Big Wigs had their personal assistants handlethis pre-meeting crap. I was on my last two fucking nerves and one of those wasalready stressed and tender. And the real reason for being here hadn't evenarrived yet. "Why am I in your faction?" Anais mulled over threateningly. "Because you haven't walked out that door. There are going to be three sidesto this meeting, not three plus Anais. That is the way it is going to be. Now,are you going to behave, or are Juanita and Pamela going to toss you out?" "You are threatening me!" "Finally catching on to that, aren't you, Sweetie?" Pamela chimed in. "I'm only staying because I believe you are in trouble," Anaisgrumped. "Whyisshe (Anais) here?" Nisha inquired heatedly."This is supposed to be a very, very private encounter." "I know Anais. I don't know you. I trust Anais with my well-being despitethe fact she has numerous reasons to distrust me. She's staying because she isa straight arrow. That's good enough for me." "But is she going to keep her mouth shut about what happens heretoday?" Nisha pressed. "Anais, this is a clandestine meeting that isn't going to be recorded byanybody so, barring a crime being committed, you can never discuss this withanyone who isn't already in the room. Agreed?" Pause. "I agree," she nodded. I really was going to have to fuck her again.Not today. Well, maybe not today; I had to keep my options open. Herinvestigator mind was going into overdrive. Give it a week and she'd beknocking on my door late one night. Inquisitive, truth-hungry dames are likethat, trust me. Then it would be 'bask in my genius' sex. It had been a whilesince I'd experienced that, with Lady Yum-Yum. There was another knock at the door. I checked before Juanita could do thechecking for me, in case someone was going to shoot me through the door. Fuckit. I was going to talk to Timothy about moving. Him, me and Odette. I couldn'tgive those two up. It was Kazak bookends. I opened up and invited them in. Itturned out they had names besides Bookends #1 and #2, Nuro and Roman. Nuro (I think) checked out the rooms while Roman (I was pretty sure) kept aneye on my guests. I made introductions, first names only and specifying who waswith who. Technically, they could trust my side because I was the Great Khan'sbrother and thus my servants were his servants. Technically. Iskender came next followed by OT. A woman I didn't know (sadly, not OT'sdaughter) came in behind him while the other two quintuplets stayed in thehallway. Iskender and I hugged. "Ulı Khaan syikti ağası," he smiled. That was'Prince-something'. My Kazak was a bit rusty. He then whispered into my ear."OT bows to you first. His title is Hongtaiji." What? "Ulı Khaan syikti ağası," OT bowed. "Hongtaiji Oyuun Tmrbaatar," I bowed back. I remembered Ihad to rise first. It was an etiquette thing. In retrospect, Iskender hadstretched the bounds of tradition by hugging me, his titular superior."Welcome to my humble abode." "I thank you for your hospitality," he 'grinned'. His face wasn'tmade for that gesture so that faint gesture came across as rather unnatural. My mind finally finished translating what Iskender and OT had called me. Itwasn't 'prince'. It was 'beloved brother of the Great Khan'. Mother fucker! "Wait," Justin, the military attach guy muttered, "we arehere to meetthisguy?" indicating me.
"What do you mean?"Saira questioned. "The title Mr. Nyilas was identified with means 'beloved brother of theGreat Khaan'," he explained. "The Kazakhs don't go tossing honorificslike that around. This guy," again pointing at me, "is a reallyimportantsomebody." "Thanks for dropping this grenade in my lap, OT," I joked. "I'llget you for this, and your little yak too." "Odette is going to be so miffed that she missed this," Pamelachuckled. "Mr. Nyilas," Zelda began. "Please, call me Cáel. It is how I roll." "Cáel, can I ask you a stupid question?" "Go right ahead," Pamela snorted. "Cáel does stupid real well.It is a critical part of his skill set. It makes him adorable instead ofannoying. Trust me, you'll learn that soon enough." Too much 'trust me' was flying around in a room where nobody trusted anybody. "Thanks for that encouragement, Teach," I grumbled. "Ask away,Captain Zelda." "Why are you playing this game with us?" "I wasn't. Until thirty seconds ago I was sure I was here totally as aspectator," I gripped. "My buddy," the word dripped withsarcasm, "Temujin likes dumping these kinds of surprises on me." "Did you mean what Ms. Pale said about you feeling you owed me?"Chris asked. "Absolutely." "We need help defusing this Thailand crisis before a shooting warbegins." "What do you suggest?" "We want the Khanate to back down," Chris stated firmly. "I thought we had agreed that I would spearhead this delegation,"Nisha reminded Chris. "I think the situation had evolved and we need a different approach,"Chris insisted. "You should listen to the Lieutenant Colonel," I advised. "Heknows a whole lot more about what is going on than you do." "Why don't you explain it to us?" she began her weevil-ling. "You are engaging in linguistic niceties with men who have bled together,Ms. Biswal," I instructed. "Not that Chris and I have bled on thesame battlefield, we have shed blood in the same cause; and that cause has beenbringing our two nations, the Khanate and the US, together. The Khanate owesChris for his efforts on our behalf and we pay our debts." "How so?" Nisha asked. "National Security stuff," I evaded. "If you don't know, youshouldn't know and you probably don't want to know. Suffice it to say, theKhanate is willing to listen to Lt. Colonel Diaz's request as a friend." "But he doesn't speak for the United States Government," shecorrected. "Why not?" I riposted. "He's dealt with the Khanate longer thanyou have. He has a clue about the mindset of their rank and file." "But does he know their leadership?" she persisted. "I don't know. Chris, do you think you have a handle on me?" "Are you really capable of talking for the Khanate government?" Nishapreempted Chris. What she left unsaid was 'are you culpable in theiratrocities?' "Let's find out," I then looked over my shoulder. "HongtaijiOyuun Tmrbaatar, will my words and wishes reach my brother'sear?" "That is why I am here," he replied. "Don't you have the authority to speak for your leader?" she grilledOT. Nisha was relentless trying to stay in the limelight. "Aren't you adiplomat?" "There is no need to insult the man," Pamela snidely commented. "I am one of many voices that provide information to the Great Khan. I amnot his brother. Cáel Nyilas is and has already proved his familial affectionby proposing Operation Funhouse and brought whole nations as gifts," OTschooled her. "He is gifted with both tactical and strategic insight aswell as sharing the Great Khan's love for his people and his hopes for their eventualfreedom." "I didn't think you were a soldier," Zelda looked me over. "Oh no," I wove off that insinuation. "I've never been a realsoldier and am unworthy of that distinction. I know quite a few who have earnedthat title and they scare the crap out of me. I mean, they go looking fortrouble. In my case, trouble comes looking for me. I'm damn lucky to still bealive and that's the damn truth." "Bullshit," Pamela coughed. "What was that, Artemisia?" I winked at her. "Bitch," she laughed "My men have become women, and my womenmen. At least you didn't call me Cassandra." "Well, she's Greek (a deadly insult to all Amazons), but you could be herEvil Twin because everyone believes whatever you say." "Can we get down to business?" Chris inquired. "Damn," Pamela shook her head. "They haven't been payingattention." "What does that mean?" Zelda griped. "Iskender, you know what I'm talking about, don't you?" I asked. "Not a clue, Exalted One," he stood there like a stone statue. Note,the Khanate contingent really were standing there like the Altai Mountains,doing nothing. You had to carefully examine them to see that they did indeedbreathe and blink. "Use small words," Pamela advised. "You really are a rude misanthrope," Anais told Pamela. "Do you know what's going on?" Pamela volleyed. "No." "Then sit back and watch how the madness works," she snickered."It is all you, Cáel." "Okay. One; how did Artemisia escape the battle of Salamis?" I began.Nothing. "Oh," Justin nodded. "She rammed an allied ship to make thepursuing Athenians think she was an ally. What does that have to do with ourcurrent predicament?" "Achieve your ends by using violence as a distraction," I sighed."The Khanate will invade Thailand in," I looked to OT,"tomorrow?" He nodded. "How does that help us?" Nisha complained. "Second example, Cassandra. She saw the truth through all illusions andfalsehoods and no one believed her. Now, reverse that." Pause. "We are waiting," Saira finally joined the conversation. I could hearthose little microprocessors inside her noggin firing electrons at light speed. "We fight a phony war. The Khanate and their buddies invade in a lightningcampaign that appears to be successful. Shit like attacking the oppositionwhere they ain't. Things that look epic on CNN where some retired colonel, nooffense..." "None taken," Chris responded. "Where some colonel talks about seizing resources, severed supply linesand encirclement. We, the Khanate, bomb shit like bridges and supply dumps,things with no civilians to get killed. On the downside, to make this work theKhanate needs to put some level of force into Bangkok." "That will get civilians killed," Nisha reminded me, unnecessarily. "Civilians are getting killed right now by their own government. This timethey will get a chance to strike back," I stated firmly. "The Thaiprotestors aren't cowards. They are just grossly outgunned. We can changethat." "How does that help the United States?" Nisha queried. "The US gets to come in and save the day," I sighed. "TheUScantget there until the day after, so you don't lookbad about letting the first 24 hours of brutality happen." "Oh," Zelda blinked. "The US gets to end the fighting that the Khanate has no desire tocontinue. The US brings peace, while whomever takes over owes the Khanate. Bothsides look good. Both sides claim victory. The President gets a second NobelPeace Prize (psychic, aren't I?). The US gathers some regional allies likeMalaysia, the ROC and the Philippines along with our Marines to ensure free andfair elections. The Khanate isn't seen to be backing down against the Titan ofWestern Civilization. They are working with them to bring about a betterworld." "Win-win," Saira nodded in agreement. "The Khanate is still an autocratic tyranny," Nisha commented. "As opposed to the People's Republic's oligarchical tyranny?" Chriscountered. "Agreed," Saira said. "I now think we should work with theKhanate to bring stability to Central Asia which which was impossible whilethose member nations were being squeezed between Russia, Europe, China andIndia." "What are you a doctor of?" I asked. "I specialize in 'failed states', among other things," Saira grinned. "This could still turn into one bloody cluster-fuck," Zelda mused. "My peopled don't have the resources to devastate Thailand," OTfinally spoke. "If you, the US, agrees to intervene on our timetable, youwill have our thanks, off the record, of course." "How do we know this isn't some ruse to allow the Khanate to overthrowThailand's existing government?" Justin questioned. "You have my word," I replied. No one said anything for severalheartbeats. "Really?" Nisha balked. "Mr. Nyilas, Cáel, do you give me the Great Khan's word?" Chrisstudied me intently. "Without reservation," I answered. "For what you have done forus and more, the Great Khan will honor this deal. We and the Thai's will do thebleeding. You will get your accolades. We avoid a pointless clashing of forces,which is why we are all here today." "I will give you my written recommendation in a few hours," Sairatold Nisha. Chris stepped forward to shake my hand. He was an alpha-type alright. I gave asgood as I got. His eyes bore into mine, looking for a faltering of will. "What did you do in Romania?" "I got a lot of good men killed." "Okay." "Okay?" Nisha squawked. "A handshake, a pat on the back and thedeals done? Since when did our democratic republic do business this way? Headmitted he got men killed in Romania. What is to say this won't be Romaniawrit large?" "Ms. Biswal, he told the truth. He got good men killed and he isn't happyabout it. I would be worried if he claimed one bit of glory from that episode.He didn't." "Nisha," I took a deep breathe, "When you unleash men withweapons, nothing is assured. Maybe the Thai government will see the hate comingtheir way and back down. Maybe the people will resist the intrusion. Maybe theKhanate's forces will get slaughtered at the starting line. It isn't like theyhave enough time to deploy enough forces to win a protracted war." "What happens if the Khanate decides it won't go?" she continued. "Then they get destroyed on the ground in a war of attrition," Chrisanswered for me. "He's right. They can't bring enough in the time allottedto completely overwhelm the roughly 120,000 members of the Royal Thai Army thathave remained loyal to the regime." "In three days they will be out of fuel, shells, rockets and bullets. Itis logistics, Ms. Biswal," Zelda piled it on. "The Khanatewar-fighting systems are not NATO compatible. That means they can't simplycapture more material as they penetrate the frontiers. If they overstay theirwelcome, we can launch missile strikes against their fuel depots. The combatdevolves back to World War I and that's a style of war they can't afford tofight." "What about stopping the Khanate from invading in the first place?"Nisha wouldn't give up. "Had the US acknowledged the Khanate, none of this would have happened,Ms. Biswal," I became snappish. "Neither superpower talked to theother until other commitments had been made." "If you think you can come in and start dictating Khanate policy, you aredreadfully mistaken. The US doesn't have the power, or the resolve," Iglared at her. "Don't try convincing the Khanate that isn't the case. Weknow better." "You don't know what the US is capable of," she snapped back. "Abandoning Iraq with a fractured pseudo-democratic process? AbandoningAfghanistan without destroying the Taliban? The Syrian Civil War? The Donbass Crisis?The collapse of Libya? Boko Haram? Somalia? Yemen? Exactly how has the US'spower and resolve solved any of those issues?" I countered. "Ms. Biswal," OT spoke again. "We are willing to create a desertand call it'Peace'. Our enemies know that. Your unwillingness todo so is neither a strength nor a weakness. It is a hallmark of your society inthe same way that'Total War'is a hallmark of ours. We aremore than willing to leave you to manage thePeace. Let us managetheWaragainst the forces opposed to civilizeddiscourse." "As ugly and disagreeable as it is, we are willing to keep creatingpyramids of skulls on every street corner until either they learn their lesson,or we kill them all. Let us do that and you will have your global stability andreap the economic benefits and accolades ofPax Americana. We arenot your enemy. We are precisely the ally you need to keep the peace and wewill do that, if you let us." "To allow barbarism is to become barbarians," Saira mused. "That is complete fiction," I scoffed. "The United States didn'tbecome communist because it allied with the Soviet Union in World War II.Truman didn't become Stalin.The enemy of my enemy is my friendisolder than recorded history." "It is the Carrot and the Stick on a Global basis," Justin agreed."Listen to the gentle words of the West, or you will end up feeling thewrath of the East." "As long as the Khanate accepts the limitations of is role," Sairaadded, "this might work. Please understand there will be factions in theWestern Democracies who will not accept that status quo. It is not in thenature of our societies to stifle dissent." "Is it possible to get any political concessions from the Khanate'sleadership?" Justin requested. "A pledge to hold some level of democraticelections? A Constitution with some strong provisions to protect individualrights and liberties would be nice." "Justin, in case your bosses missed it, the Khanate is still at a state ofwar with the PRC," I shook my head. "With their limited experiencewith democratic government throughout most of the Khanate's territories, thatwould be madness." "With limited concessions to the Imperial State, we have not interferedwith the politics of Albania, Armenia, Georgia and Turkey. We are never goingto become a Western-style democracy. We have had limited rule by consensus longbefore White Men arrived in the Western Hemisphere," OT informed them. "Discounting the Irish Monks, Vikings and Knights Templar," Pamelainterjected. "If you say so," OT gave a minuscule bow to Pamela. "Long beforeyour nation was anything more than the scribbled history of a long-faded Greekcity-state, we had meritocracies, oligarchies of senior statesmen &warriors, thinkers and religious leaders, and we had codified judicial moralequality into the political arena. We have a far superior record of religiousand minority freedom, of genuine multi-culturalism plus a deeper understandingof the arts and crafts as a means of uniting disparate peoples. We find yourclaims of cultural superiority to be childish." "Oh, snap," I snickered. "You get'em, OT." "I bet the boys in Foggy Bottom felt that pimp-slap," Pamela agreed. "I bet the bronzed skull of some Harvard dean just fell off itspedestal." "They are called 'busts'," Anais groaned. "With a name likethat, how could you forget it?" "So true," I concurred. "All this responsibility must haveclouded my normally hedonistic vocabulary." "That doesn't change the fact that you have employed biological warfareand genocide in this current day and age," Justin pointed out. "Tell that to our Native Americans," I snorted. "They are easyto find. They live in trailer parks in whatever blasted Hell Hole we stuck themin, or in their casinos where they are buying back their country, one rube at atime. Ask them if they'vegotten over it." "We don't claim to be perfect," Justin insisted. "No, we merely claim to have the only correct form of government, economicpolicy and schools of philosophical, political, scientific and educationalthought," I pointed out. "We definitely should revive ethical utilitarianism," Pamela slappeda fist into her palm. "Oh, and the guillotine. Work houses for orphans andgrist mills for the disabled, andA Modest Proposalforthose chronically unemployed and terminally homeless, yes, and," "Pamela, what is it with you today?" I snickered. "It is nearly sunset," "Ah, and you haven't killed anyone yet." "You know how cranky I get when I don't get my daily dose ofhomicide." "Are you two done?" Anais frowned. She did that a lot around me. "And you don't hand out Mini-Uzi's to your preschoolers," Pamelaglowered. "What is wrong with you people?" Pause, waiting for that punch line that was never coming. See, it was moredifficult to sense Pamela was an immediate threat to your health if you thoughtshe was completely off her rocker. "Hmm, well, on that note, ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a deal.Chris and Justin, I will leave you with my loyal Iskender to work out the gorydetails. Who wants to grab dinner?" I inquired. "Are you serious?" Nashi gasped. "Oh yeah. I had the Russian invasion of Manchuria figured out in thisamount of time and Manchuria is way bigger than Thailand." Was it? Ididn't know. Geography was not one of those subjects which gets you laid. "What do you have in mind?" Zelda inquired. "Whatever you want." {1 am, Sunday, August 31st ~ 8 Days to go} "How did I end up in bed with you?" Zelda sighed happily, her bodysplayed halfway over mine and her head resting on my chest, listening to myheartbeat. "You aren't the first girl to ask me that question." On the other side, Anais moaned in her sleep. Yeah, she was over me.Abso-fucking-lutely. If you recall, she'd try anything once. I convinced herthe military babes were totally different than that Goth chick we'd blown themind of back in Montreal. Zelda was with me because I had caught her in a lie. She claimed to be alesbian when I first hit on her. She was adamant. I destroyed her withincontrovertible evidence. A) She hadn't scoped out Anais when she came in. A glance didn't count andAnais oozed sexy when she was angry, which was most of the time. B) She hadn't scoped out Juanita's figure when said worthy went to thekitchenette. I look for such things and Juanita has thighs to die for. C) When I told her she had a wicked sense of humor, she blushed. Honestly,lesbians rarely care about strange men complimenting their personalities. D) Then I double-downed by asking her if she preferred a shower, or bath. Shesaid shower (because that's the butch thing to say). When I asked her 'when wasthe last time she'd had a bubble bath', she blushed again. Lesbians don't likeit when a man imagines them naked. Straight chicks, unless you are a creepy,stalker guy, like it when men fantasize about them swathed in bubbles, thussemi-clothed, thus not creepy. E) In a final and fatal act of evasion, she asked a grumpy Anais what she likedabout me. Anais was blunt. "He can fucking hammer you all night, sneak in a romantic quickie in theshower, cook you a delicious breakfast then give you another round ofmind-numbing intercourse up against the wall before you have to go to work. Andstill find the time and energy to fuck your neighbor." Woot! "So, this happens to you often?" she mused, it was a trap. She reallywanted to know if I was an egotistical scumbag who took advantage of everywoman I came across. At the same time, she wanted to know if I considered her a'whoe' ~ a woman who gives up the goodies for free. "Do you mean 'am I taking advantage of you'?" I replied. "That is not what I asked," she persisted. That meant 'yes'. "Let me see," I laid back and looked up at the ceiling. "I havea fiancée, six women I am close enough to to spend quality time with, afuck-buddy who is a sweet girl and trusts me too much and a passel ofex-girlfriends who have found my infidelity to be reprehensible." "Six women?" she frowned. "Four co-workers (Rhada, Oneida, Yasmin and Buffy), the girlfriend of aco-worker who dumped her in a very public fashion (Brooke) and that woman'sfriend (Libra). She was the wing-chick who was stuck with me on aquadruple-date and was underwhelmed with me when we first met."
I didn't count my'hook-ups' and I wasn't sure how to qualify Nicole. "Ex's?" "'No' is not a word in common usage in my vocabulary. I've dated a bestfriend's girl, a mother, sister and aunt of the same girlfriend, basically, I'meither highly immoral, incredibly loose, or a letch." "Don't you take responsibility for any of those, relationships?" "Hell yeah," I tilted her chin up so that we could make eye-contact."I've never blamed a woman for taking out her frustrations on my flesh,ran away from a screaming fit (Big Lie!), or blamed them for any failing in ourrelationship. It is always my fault because I can't stay loyal." "That's depressing," Zelda moped. "Don't get me wrong. I don't find fault in any of the women I have spenttime with. That is my problem, I find women fascinating; never boring, orbland. Quite frankly, it is a gift that I don't regret having. I may be afuck-up, but I'm a fuck-up who will give you the very best attention." "Full of yourself, much?" her attitude shifted. I had short-circuitedher fears; I was a cheater, I confessed to it without shame because I wasinexorably drawn to her beauty, personality and charm. With Anais around, Icouldn't claim to be solely enchanted with Zelda, so I had to think quickly onmy feet. After all, Zelda was energetic and had great stamina. "I promised you pleasure," I countered. "Did I deliver?" "Yes, you are full of yourself," she slapped my stomach. I wasn'tfull of myself. I was a confident sex machine. "Thank you." "Huh?" "Wonderful sex, taking a chance with me, agreeing to a three-way, beingawake after," I looked at the bed-table clock, "six hours." "I run five miles a day," she bragged. "I try to have ten hours of sex a day," I teased. Zelda slapped mystomach again. Anais stirred. "Do any women like you, for any reason beyond your cock?" "I'm considered loyal where sex is not concerned, reliable andbrave," I offered. "What happened in Romania?" "Have you ever been in combat?" "I've been in violent confrontations, but not a true firefight," sheadmitted. "Hmm," "Is it something that you can't relate?" she asked. "No. You are a soldier so you probably know more about combat than I do.It was, not chaotic at all. I never lost perspective of what was going ondespite the bullets flying around. The Romanian Captain in charge knew hisstuff, directed his company well and all I had to do was figure out where theterrorist leader was." "What happened?" she perked up. "I am here talking with you and he's in a morgue in Bucharest." "Oh," She wanted more. "I have to live with the knowledge that I set all of that in motion,Zelda. I convinced the Romanians that they had to confront that terror groupbefore they moved on to their next target, me." "I knew they would come after me and my friends, no matter where we were.Which would have ended up as a blood bath in some urban center. So I feltcompelled to strike first. Based on information I provided, the Romanian Armysent two battalions, the 22nd and 24th, of the 6th Mountain Troops Brigade intobattle." "It was a massacre," I remembered sadly. "But you won," she tried to comfort me. "Of the four companies involved in the battle, the Romanians sufferednearly two hundred dead and wounded. I hardly consider it anything other than amassacre. Yes, we won. Only three of the terrorists escaped. Their leader died.I don't think I've ever felt so hollow in my life," I finished. "Forty percent losses, that is horrific," she crawled on top of me. "The kicker is the Romanians sent some men of the 24th to hunt me downwhen I was kidnapped. A squad was in the group that rescued me and my companionfrom Johnston Island. I thought they would never want to deal with me everagain." "Don't be so hard on yourself. If they thought well enough of you to sendtheir men out to rescue you, then you must have done right by them." "Chaz said something like that too," I felt sheepish and sleepy. "Chaz? Who is she?" Honest to God, one day I want to find a girl who thinks I'm talking aboutanother girl and asks if we can have a three-way, instead of trying to compareherself to this unknown person. Wait... I already had someone like that. Hername was Odette. "Chaz is Color Sergeant Charles 'Chaz' Tomorrow of Her Majesty'sSSR," I corrected her assumption. "SSR? Those are some tough people. How do you know him?" "Black Bag directives from the National Security Council, sworn to secrecyupon penalty of death, pinky-promise kind of stuff," I grinned. Maybe Iwasn't all that sleepy after all. "You really are a Man of Mystery," Zelda purred. She had trulyexceptional stamina. "Maybe I can convince you to talk." "Maybe I can find another use for my tongue," I countered and off wewent. Somewhere along the process, Anais woke up and joined in. It wasn't all fun and games. Anais' parting words were "You are apig," then she sauntered out of my room and out of my life. Had sheremembered to take her Serge with her, I would have bought the act. As it was, "Is she always so volatile?" Zelda remarked. "Volatile? That's not her being volatile. That's Anais being affectionate.Volatile usually is accompanied by thrown objects and bodily harm," Isighed happily. Meeting her one more time couldn't be all that bad, could it?Zelda looked hungry so I shoved that thought to the back of my mind and got towork. That was the highlight of my Sunday. Zelda had to fly back to Washington D.C.and I had to go to work with JIKIT. It seemed that the Khanate and the USmilitary were heading for a showdown. I unloaded all my Saturday's activitiesto the team and we got to work, no recriminations. I was the Khan's spiritualbrother and sometimes that meant I had to do him favors. I asked Addison when she thought he would return the favor. She laughed, thensmiled and told me that wasn't how it worked. He was a world leader now and Iwas merely his kooky kinsman that he would keep throwing problems at until oneday I broke. Then it would be some other poor saps turn. Then she told me she was kidding and clearly the Great Khan thought the worldof me. I chose to believe the second lie because it made me feel better, and itwas promising to be a long weekend/start of the week. Note: Geopolitical Developments What follows are snippets of the Battle for Thailand that takes placelate in the night of September 1stand continued into the early morning ofSeptember 3rd.If this does not interest you, you can rejoin Cáel’sexploits in four pages) On the eve of battle, the Royal Thai High Command had decided to strip all butone armored unit from the 2nd Army in order to give the First Army's offensiveagainst the rebels more of a punch. It's decision to strip the tank battalionsfrom both their infantry divisions as well as the armored and one of the twomechanized regiments would prove to be disastrous. It was as if the leadershipof the Royal Thai military were idiots. The least economically valuable part of the country was the northeast which the2nd Army warded. They had severely underestimated the airlift capacity of theKhanate as well as the willingness of Laos and Cambodia to both use their armedforces in an invasion as well as their willingness to let Vietnamese troopscross their countries. That thinking had led the Thai military to adopt a 'forward defense' strategy,the desire to fight the enemy at the borders, as opposed to having strongerformations deeper within the country. Considering the relative weakness of theCambodian and Laotian militaries, that policy had made sense: - The baseline Laotian and Cambodian tank was the T-54/55, a 1950's Sovietrelic. The normal anti-tank capabilities in all Thai infantry formations wasmore than equal to such a threat. -Neither country had an air force worth worrying about. In contrast, the Khanate's primary tanks, the T-90SM and T-95 were resistant tomost of what the Thai Army could throw at them, at least from the front. Theseven hundred combat aircraft the Khanate and the Vietnamese were able to fieldwas an equal catastrophe for the Thais. It greatly compensated for the relativesmall numbers of invaders. Finally, there was a fundamental misunderstanding of what the Alliance's goalswere. Military logic dictated the destruction of Thailand's mobile forcefollowed by the capture of Bangkok. As long as the Thai regime held thecapital, it would remain the legitimate power in the country. Due to the altering political landscape, the Alliance's only option was to makethe government 'look bad'. The loss of peripheral provinces, while ofnegligible immediate strategic value, looked great on the maps the world-widemedia would be showing to their audiences. It would appear that the Thai armyhad failed to defend their country. That would (hopefully) make the Thai ThirdArmy look like the legitimate authority in Thailand. That was the plan anyway, and you know what they say about battle plans and theenemy, right? H-hour was 4 am, September 1st. "Sir, why are we doing this? I am not afraid to fight for the Great Khan,but this action seems to be suicidal. We will be far behind enemy's lines whileour offensive force will be grossly under-equipped." "You will have to rely on our ability to supply you by air." "We only have supplies for two days of operations. What happensthen?" "We rely on the Americans to come and save us," the senior officerresponded bitterly. "Allah save us from allies," the young commander muttered. What elsecould he do? He was part of the 2nd MountainSultan Mehmet Tumenwhich hadjust arrived in Yunnan to replace the exhausted 1st MountainAbual-Ghazi Bahadur Tumen. His men were from Turkey, inexperienced in combatand using new equipment they were not familiar with. They would be working witha unit he had never worked with before, the 1st AirmobileTauekel KhanTumen, Kazaks, who would be seizing the small airport his men needed toland in. From there, they were to 'run amok'. That was the technical term for racingsouth down a highway in Central Thailand, attacking the headquarters of the 3rdCavalry Division, an armored unit. Once that was accomplished, they were toattack the local police precinct. Provided they were still alive after that,they were to return to the air strip to resupply then they were to 'spreadchaos' until they were finally hunted down by the vastly larger Thai divisionhis 100 men would be fighting. Of course, there was the plan for the rebel Royal Thai Third Army to forcetheir way through the larger frontline forces of the loyalist Royal Thai FirstArmy and come to his rescue. How would the Thai troops respond when ordered tofight their fellow Thais? No one was sure. If there was any hope in thismission, it was the knowledge that several otherZuunshad theexact same mission in other areas of Thailand.
The commander of the Zuun stood up and waited to be recognized. The staffofficer from the Yunnan Command pointed at him.
It was H-hour minustwenty-two. It was 11 o'clock in the evening when the general in charge of the Royal Thai9th Infantry Division was woken up. The Marines were leaving. That was correct;the three Royal Thai regiments were heading west to Sattahip Naval Base,because they had been ordered to by the Commander-in-Chief of the Royal ThaiNavy. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize why this was going on. Seven hours earlier, the Royal Thai Army had seized all the Air Force bases inthe 1st and 2nd Army districts as well as ordering the 4th Army to do the samething (The Royal Thai Air Force had been trying to remain neutral in theupcoming civil war). Undoubtedly the navy had decided to make their assets less 'hijack-able'. A fewphone calls later confirmed that most of the Navy had set sail for partsunknown and the naval air units at Ban Sattahip Air Base (U-Tapao InternationalAirport) had also departed either out to sea, or to ports and bases in theSouth. He made a personal appeal to the commander of Marine Forces to no avail. Theywanted no part of the upcoming struggle and advised the general to do the same.The general had other problems. The Royal Thai Marines were the frontlineforces facing the southern border with Cambodia. He quickly reorganized hisregiments, sending them to take the old Marine strongpoints to await furtherorders. Stopping the Marines never entered his mind. That was a bloodletting he wanted no part of. The last thing he did was informhis superiors, thus avoiding any stupid orders to the contrary. Suddenly thenebulous movements along the Cambodian border developed a hauntingsignificance. He wondered how much longer he had beforesomethinghappened.
It was H-hour minusfive. At midnight a loyalist commander of a company of mechanized infantry in the 2ndCavalry's 11th Battle Group (named after their axis of advance, Highway 11)decided to send a motorized section of his command forward to the advanceposition his battalion was to occupy come sunrise. Either later in the day, ortomorrow morning, the forces loyal to the regime would launch a coordinatedassault against the rebels main supply center at Phitsanulok. He had a cot set up in his communications hut and had just nodded off when theradio squawked to life. His lieutenant in charge of the advance made a hurriedreport. They had encountered serious opposition in a confusing night action,then he went silent. The captain immediately swung into action. He put the restof his men on alert, then contacted the neighboring Tank Battalion. He neededsome armored support. He made a similar call to the attached artillerycomponent. The Tank Battalions night officer quickly put a platoon of light tanks at hisdisposal. The artillery were ready for any fire mission he sent their way.Before the armor could arrive, the company commander found himself being calledto the carpet by the Duty Officer at the 3rd Cavalry (two regiments of the 2ndCav. had been attached to the 3rd's command) over his 'offensive' action andthe relief mission was called off. What had happened to the patrol of 20 RoyalThai soldiers? He was ordered to wait until sunrise to find out. Little did anyone know, these were the first combat casualties of the upcomingrebel offensive. His patrol had stumbled across a battalion of mechanizedtroops arriving attheirjump off point for the attack thatwas less than six hours from beginning. Neither the commander of the 11thBattle Group, the 3rd Cavalry Division, or First Army was informed that theenemy had already advanced twenty kilometers south of where they were supposedto be.
It was H-hour minusfour. Over the Gulf of Thailand an Indian pilot was sweating and anxious. He wasn'tupset about the fact that his nation was about to intervene in the nation hewas currently flying beside in an unarmed, slow moving transport aircraft. Heeven wasn't upset that he was about to open the rear ramp of his C-130 andunleash 64 MARCOS in an ocean insertion. What he was upset about was flying so close to his companion C-130 that theyappeared to be one aircraft to the civilian air traffic controllers. After all,there couldn't be two Indian passenger planes flying the same route to PhnomPenh one right after the other. The 128 MARCOS Special Operators were past worrying about 'The Plan'. In the1st phase, they were HAHO-ing (High Altitude High Opening) because they had toglide nearly thirty kilometers before landing at night into a body of water.That accomplished, they had to swim the last two kilometers, with gear, to theThailand coast. Then they had to sneak up on a guarded compound, the U-TapaoRoyal Thai Navy Airfield, and hold it until the Khanate could landreinforcements, and all before sunrise. The second phase of the operation was a tad nebulous and not tied to anyparticular time table, or location. It required a good deal of guts andinitiative and he and his men had that in spades. They were in the rear area ofthe 9th Royal Thai Infantry Division. The MARCOS with approximately 500 Khanate soldiers were to locate any and allelements of said formation, wherever they might be, and destroy them. The enemyhad 36 1960-era tanks. The Khanate had promised to bring 11 of their own(hopefully more modern) tanks. The INS promised naval and air support. Thingswere going to get 'interesting'.
It was H-hour minus two.
The first planned combataction ofOperation Pridi Phanomyong, the name for the combinedThai, Cambodian, Khanate, Laotian and Vietnamese offensive to topple themilitary dictatorship ruling Thailand, happened at Nong Khai, Thailand. The commander of a battalion of the 3rd Infantry Division had been deniedpermission to wire the '2nd Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge' with explosives, so hehad targeted it with his mortar team instead, despite the reality that his 81mmround were likely to have negligible impact on the structure. At 3 am, he was awoken to the sounds of automatic weapons fire far too closeby. 'Him' stopping to get dressed saved his life. As he was exiting the privateresidence next to his Command Post, the Post erupted into a fireball. He evenmade out the whoosh of the cruise missile impacting. He had planned for thatcontingency. The man raced back into his home and accessed the public telephonenetwork. His first call to the mortar platoon went unanswered. His next two calls to thetwo infantry companies manning positions adjacent to the bridge also wentunanswered. His fourth call was to his reserve company. They responded, so hedirected them to retake the southern end of the bridge and hold it at allcosts. His fifth call was to regimental command, 100 km safely to the rear, to informthem that his position was compromised. He needed immediate support or hebelieved his position would be overrun. If assistance wasn't coming, he wantedpermission to withdraw with whatever he could salvage. Before he could get his reply, his residence was rocked by a grenade explosion.As he struggled back to his feet, machine gun fire ripped through the place.His attendant and two security troopers fell back down. The door was kickedopen. Though wounded, he scrambled to pull his pistol out. A hammer blow hithis chest. His last memory was of a camouflage-painted Mongolian face lookingdown at him. It was Hour minus one.
The Royal Thai ArmedForces were not designed around a robust anti-aircraft program. Their fewadvanced systems were around the capital, not in the field with the troops.They had to use more primitive systems and relied heavily on the civilian airtraffic controllers for much of their data. A phone call from Khon KaenInternational airport operator alerted the area army commander that somethingominous was coming their way. Dutifully, the military officer ordered his radar operators to cut on theirsearch radars to analyze the threat. They found it. At the same time, thewaiting Khanate Su-27 pilots registered the range and location of the enemyradars and promptly send radar-seeking missiles their way. Those two aircraftwere tasked with anti-air suppression. Behind them, an air armada wasdescending on Thailand and it would be a disaster if their lumbering Il-76'sand An-70's and -74's were blasted out of the sky in a rain of burning men andmaterial. Patrolling several thousand meters above were two Thai Royal Air Force F-16's.They spotted the Su-27's activating their search radar, identified them as'hostiles' who had penetrated Thai airspace and dove to the attack. They kepttheir radars passive, waited for the IR missiles to 'beep', letting the pilotsknow they had locked on to their targets, and then let loose.
A heartbeat later, halfa dozen different search radars went active. It was a group of Mig-29's whowere flying air cover over the group of ground attack fighters beneath them.One Su-27 twisted out of the way. The second took a hit and spun out ofcontrol. After that, the two F-16 pilots were too busy futilely trying to stayalive. It was H hour. Where was the Royal Thai Air Force? The units in the central part of thecountry had been persuaded to cooperate with the regime. Those in the south andnorth had kept to their neutrality. The ones in the west were faced with acrisis of conscience when Khanate airmobile forces landed at their bases. The soldiers promised the airmen that no one needed to fire at the other. Theinvaders weren't going to demand the Thai's surrender, only that they stay onthe base until the crisis was over. They were loyal servants of the Kingdom,but what did that mean right now, when the Army was shooting people in thestreets? A cautious dtente was reached. In that small portion of thecountry, no one died. In the south of Thailand, the pilots listened to their brethren to the northfighting and dying. Their resolve to stay neutral was tested. The regimedeclared this to be a foreign invasion. The Royal Thai Third Army declared thecountry's hour of liberation was at hand. Conflicted, they did nothing. Bydaylight, H-hour plus three, the skies over most of their homeland were emptyof all Thai aircraft.
A soldier of the Royal Cambodian 5th Commando was poised and waiting for theultimate test of his unit's ability. Oddly enough, his unit had been createdbecause of the success of Thai Special Forces against his country in countlessearlier border clashes.
Now he was sitting in Thailand, waiting for the largest offensive the modernCambodian Army had ever attempted in their modern history. Sure, they had beeninvaded plenty of times in the past hundred years. This time, they would be theinvaders.
At thirty-two seconds past H-hour, 130mm howitzer shells began falling on theloose Thai earthworks. They clearly didn't suspect that they were standing inthe way of the Alliance'Cambodia Force'(the designation forthe middle of three axis of invasions out of Cambodia).
It wasn't much, as invasion armies went ~ a regiment of Cambodia's FourthDivision plus three batteries of heavy artillery, the 160th Regiment of theVietnamese 5th Division and 500 Khanate soldiers with 33 T-90SM tanks ~ maybe3000 men in all. It was a paltry invasion army.
His wasn't the only Cambodia Commando unit in this operation either. The 1st,2nd and 3rd Commando (Airborne) were over 30 kilometers away, deeper inThailand. They had to secure bridges on Highway 24 as well as one over Road 224until relieved by his invasion Battle Group (BG). Their mission was to stopThai reinforcements from setting up blocking forces. With his 5th Commando wasthe 7th Commando. When the artillery barrage lifted, they were to attack theThai battalion from the rear while their brethren attacked from the front.
One of the most relevant facts in the Alliance's intervention was somethingtheir American and NATO contemporaries had thought irrelevant in the upcomingstruggle. With the minimal runway space in Northeastern Thailand, Laos,Cambodia and Vietnam, it was the ability of Soviet/Russian aircraft to useunpaved airfields to launch from.
This greatly magnified the number of planes the Khanate could bring to thefight. Like every other component of this expedition, they were criticallyshort on armaments, fuel and spare parts. Giving them a schedule of 48 hours ofcontinuous operations was considered overly optimistic by the leaders in chargeof these air groups.
A feature these aircraft did share with their western counterparts was theability to fly night, as well as day operations, in all sorts of weather. Closeto 3:30 in the morning, the planes began to assemble over their bases and thenheaded for the Thai border. The groups coming from Chinese bases had startedout earlier while those in Cambodia and Laos were late to the game. None theless, nearly five hundred Khanate combat aircraft began descending on Thailand.Behind them came the 400 planes carrying the airborne and airlift forces.
In front of them were the Khanate's airmobile/helicopter borne units. Small innumber, they had the unenviable task of seizing river crossings and civilianair bases for the oncoming transports who would be landing troops, supplies andeventually reinforcements. In more than one instance, it was a one-way trip.The unit was being sacrificed in order to confuse the Thai military about thetrue threat until it was too late. That was the plan anyway.
The Thai town of Lom Sak was the base for the loyalist Eastern Battle Group(EBG). It was the smallest of the four groups designated to attack the rebel1st Cavalry Division. They were also the closest to the enemy base ofoperations. They were also terribly close to the Laotian border. The Colonel incharge of EBG had been very conscious of the current political situation andcarefully parked his equipment in lagers outside of the municipality.
Unfortunately, his political consideration also made his command an open,tempting target for the Khanate aircraft. Absent any air defense, or even anearly warning system, he was jarred out of his bed by a series of explosion. Hedied without ever knowing that much of his unit was dying right along with him.
For the dozen Su-25 pilots, this was the start of what promised to be a verylong day. Lom Sak was just over the border, so they were to drop bombs, firetheir rockets and then strafe the ashes until they stopped twitching. Despitethe carnage unleashed, not everyone in EBG died. Many survived, but theirtanks, APC's and trucks were destroyed.
West of Lom Sak, the platoon placed on the only road between the town and theirtarget were calling anyone and everyone because they were in trouble too. Theyheard tanks coming their way and they desperately needed assistance. Then the125mm High Explosive (H E) shells began hitting their positions. They could seethe muzzle flashes from the two oncoming tanks as they fired.
Immediately his Dragon (an anti-tank missile system) fired. It missed. Theywere reloading when they were reduced to so much blood, bone and rockfragments. The other option? The lieutenant in charge knew the range wasextreme for his only anti-tank weapon, two LAW rockets, but he had no otheralternatives.
The soldier assigned to the task fired. The platoon watched the rocket streaktoward the target, and hit it, and nothing happened. Actually, that wasincorrect. The tank began machine gunning the location the shot had come from.The second LAW had similar poor success. It did momentarily reveal the infantrymoving up with the tanks.
That was enough for the lieutenant. He was courageous. That didn't mean he'dlet his men get slaughtered. He ordered his men to fall back to their jeeps andhead back toward Lom Sak in all haste. They made it to Lom Sak, then keptgoing. There was nothing left in the EBG that could stop tanks, the sun wasrising and hanging around seemed contrary to the Laws of Survival.
It was H-hour plus 30minutes. For the loyalist mechanized regiment of the Nan River Battle Group it was aconfusing awakening. Promptly at 4:00 am, thunder could be heard from bothflanks of their position. It was miles away, not an immediate threat, so theirfirst concern was that the loyalist attack had been launched and no one hadbothered to tell them. According to 'The (Loyalist) Plan', they were to pushnorth against hopefully light opposition and approach Phitsanulok from thesouthwest. By a quirk of the Thai command structure, the Nan River BG wasn't in contactwith the military bodies on either flank. They were in contact with 3rdCavalry, which they were a part of. The Duty Officer there had no idea what wasgoing on. He did order the unit go to Alert Status and await further orders.Unfortunately for all concerned, those communications were made with radios. The Khanate A-50 AEW was looking for just such action and sent two Su-25 attackcraft to each location. Within twenty minutes, the General in charge of the 3rdCavalry Division put his units on alert, then died. As did his underling incharge of the Nan River BG. For the Thai troops on the Nan River, it wasn'tover. In the dark, 4 old Mil Mi-26's attack helicopters began raining deathdown on them for five minutes. It was of little consolation that the troops of the 117th BG were getting it awhole lot worse. The 117th consisted of both the Armored and Mechanized regimentsof the 3rd Cavalry Division. 'The Plan' called for two Armored and 3 Mechanizedregiments plus an armored and a motorized battalion to attack across a broadfront from the south while another mechanized and armored battalion attackedfrom the east. Forced to defend along multiple fronts, the rebel 3rd Army's 1stCavalry division would be defeated in detail and the rebellion ended. The downside to the plan was that it left the loyalist forces facing the samepredicament, the risk of being defeated separately in bite-sized chunks. Thatwas not the fate of the Nan River BG, or 117th BG. They were to be paralyzed byair strikes just long enough for the 11th BG to be overwhelmed and the roadopened to the 3rd Cavalry Divisions rear area. Military logic demanded that the mobile flanking forces had to be defeatedbefore a true breakthrough could be achieved, not just disrupted. Otherwise,the invaders could be cut off from supplies and choked of resources. Except theinvading forces didn't care about their supply lines. What little reserves theyhad could be brought in by air, after that, there was nothing left and theadvance would grind to a halt. Little did the Nan River BG know that it was Alliance strategy to cripple theirmobile assets so that an organized counterattack would come too late to savethe 11th BG. The 117th would be drawn off to stop the rebel 7th InfantryDivision's attack to the west at Nakhon Sawa down Highway 1. The 7th only had asmall number of mobile forces, but if those could get behind the loyalist theywould be between the loyalist army and Bangkok, the rebellion just mightsucceed.
It was H-hour plus 50minutes. The commander of the First Army was finally made aware of the Allianceattack at 5:23 am. He was 250 km from the front lines and communications werespotty. The size and composition of the attacking force was unknown, but thatwasn't what had his attention. Bangkok itself was under attack. Again, forceswere unknown, but they had seized Suvarnabhumi Airport, inside the city. Thatwas his item of primary importance. He ordered the General in charge of the 1st Division, the garrison of thecapital, to secure the critical elements of the city's infrastructure andretake the airport before more enemy could arrive. Had he understood the he wasobsessing over less than 240 Khanate soldiers in twenty-four vehicles, he wouldhave let the local military and police checkpoints deal with them. The attackers had been delivered by helicopter assault. They shot up theairport's control tower, then spread out into the surrounding city. Theirhelicopter support, at the end of their effective range, had to leave. Those240 men were on their own. They were not likely to be reinforced nor was theregoing to be an attempt to rescue them. This was one of those 'one-way' missionsthat had been complained about during the initial and only briefing.
It was H-hour plus two.
The General incharge of the loyalist 9th Infantry Division had a better picture of what wasgoing on in his district. He had a mobile force in his rear that was tearing uphis 1st regiment, which he had been forced to spread out over a 100 km ofcoastline. His 2nd regiment was being pushed back by a force coming up fromKrong Khemara Phoumin, Cambodia.
The linchpin of their defense was the town of Trat, and an Alliance force hadsomehow slipped around the front ling to appear there, seized the bridge overthe Trat River and was currently driving his forces to the north and west ofthat town. The lone battalion facing the primary invasion force was on its own.
His 3rd regiment had been placed to hold open his lines ofcommunication/support along the Cambodian border between his command and thatof the 2nd Division, which was also under attack. His sole reserve force, his tankbattalion, had already been engaged and largely destroyed in Trat. Heimmediately ordered one battalion from his 3rd regiment to head to the rearwhile ordering the other two, plus the remnants of the 3rd regiment to fallback on his central position. There they would make their stand.
No sooner had those orders gone out than First Army contacted him and orderedhim to immediately counterattack the invaders.
His response? 'Counterattack? In which direction? I'm surrounded.'
They told him to secure the frontier, and then stole a battalion from his 1stregiment because the capital was under attack. His pleas that he desperatelyneeded that battalion for any counter attack were ignored.
The sole battalion driving to his rear had a 190 km to travel, over open roads,in trucks and subject to air attack. That move would take at least four hours(hopefully). What remained of the battalion they were going to aid was yet tobe seen. They sounded like they were in a world of trouble.
It would take two hours for the other two battalions from the 3rd regiment toarrive. They would be united with the remnants of the 3rd Regiment and thefinal battalion of the 1st regiment at Chanthaburi, where he had his HQ. Onlyat that point, absent tank and air support, would he attempt any action toexpel the invaders. He figured he had slim odds of success.
In thirty minutes he would be informed that the battalion holding back the maininvading force had finally succumbed. It had endured continuous artillerybarrages, multiple air strikes and five combined arms assaults. They were outof time, fighting men and largely out of ammunition when they surrendered.
It was H-hour plusthree. The citizens of Bangkok woke up to another round of shooting in thestreets. Some people, somewhere had defied the government and were now eithergetting killed, or arrested. About an hour earlier, a small number ofmysterious operatives contacted the surviving members of the opposition andtold them the hour of deliverance was at hand. Khanate troops were already inthe city and if they wanted to show the Khanate and the whole world that theydeserved freedom, they had to get into the streets for one last, climacticshowdown. So small groups hit the streets. At first, they realized that something hadgone wrong for the authorities. The police they saw on the streets were scared.Many of the military checkpoints had been abandoned. One group, over a hundredstrong by this point, rounded a street corner nervously and spotted threemilitary vehicles sitting at the next intersection. They weren't in familiarvehicles and the strangers appeared to be lost. One man, braver than most, approached them, quickly receiving their attention.He greeted them. They didn't respond, but they weren't pointing guns at himeither. As he drew close, one of the soldiers approached him and handed him a'flyer', a one page pamphlet. 'We are part of the Free Thai Alliance and are here to liberate you. Weapologize for not speaking your language. If you would direct us to the closestmilitary or police station, we will attack it for you.' The man looked at the soldier who gave him the pamphlet then up at the armoredvehicle they were standing next to. It appeared to have a very big gun and thesoldiers around it seemed ready enough. "I will show you the way," the man nodded then bowed, his handsclasped together. Over his shoulder he shouted, "They are here to help.Come with us!" The soldier quickly figured out the Thai citizen wanted to climb up on theBMP-3M. It had a 30mm auto-cannon, three 7.6mm machine guns, and the really biggun was a 100mm cannon that could also fire anti-tank missiles. It was armoredenough to defeat anything the police could bring to the fight, though anyserious weapon would destroy it. Its main reason for being on that street atthat moment was that it was a 'mere' 18 tons and thus could be airlifted byhelicopter into the city. The other two vehicles were jumped-up Russian jeeps called Tigr's. They werearmored against small arms fire and had nifty 12.7mm machine guns on top andits 11 occupants seemed rather upbeat about their chances (which was to saythey Thai's couldn't penetrate the Kazak soldiers stoic acceptance of theirfates.) "This way," the Thai protester pointed. He wasn't taking themdowntown, oh no. He was directing them into a working class section of Bangkokthat was a hotbed of anti-government resistance. He had little doubt they couldfind police officers there. He didn't want to kill them. He hoped they wouldsee the size ofhistank's big gun and do the right thing, akagive up. (BMP-3M owners please note: the BMP-3M is not a tank. It is an IFV (infantryfighting vehicle). Fighting a true tank voids the manufacturer's warranty) He also pulled out his cell phone and made a few calls. The message was alwaysthe same - "There are Mongol soldiers roaming the city. Find them before the militarydoes and use them to break police barricades. Oh, they don't understand ourlanguage so speak very slowly and use plenty of hand gestures." The Commander of a Hundred that the Thai was directing was actually much moreupbeat about his chances than he had been five minutes earlier. There was areal worry that the Thai people would see his men as hostile invaders and letthe Royal Thai Army destroy them with little to show for their mission. He activated his military network and informed the Air Force that he hadencountered anti-government forces and was interacting with them in a positivemanner. In response, he was told he was doing well (like that mattered) and adozen aircraft were coming his way to provide ground support (far moreimportant). Now they had the real possibility of causing a bloodbath inBangkok, going out with a Bang.
It was H-hour plusthree. The leader of the MARCOS team was perplexed. Everything was going betterthan planned. His allies had arrived precisely on schedule with 11 T-90Sm tanksand sizable number of supporting armored vehicles. They had immediately agreedthat their combined forces needed to take the offensive, so they mounted up andraced east to the town of Rayong. Rayong was the location of the HQ of the 1st regiment of the 9th Royal ThaiInfantry Division. They had found a full battalion there and a firefight hadensued. The Thai's had been alert, just facing the wrong way when the Allieswent in. The combat broke up into brutal, house-to-house fighting against overa thousand soldiers, paramilitaries and police. It had been an uneven struggle. The MARCOS were the most elite soldiers of a nationof over 1 billion people with four millennia of martial valor. The Khanate'stroopers had been dedicated and very well armed, if somewhat inexperienced. TheThai's had no effective anti-tank weapons versus the T-90's and their artillerysupport consisted of a handful of mortars that were quickly located andneutralized. He wasn't perplexed by the three regiments of Royal Marines sitting in theJuksamet Port of Sattahip. They seemed happy enough just sitting out this roundof the battle. Whatever moved them would be of a political nature. He wasn'tabout to attack them and they seemed to accept that situation. If thingschanged, the Indian Navy had promised to flatten the base with as muchfirepower as 34 warships could muster.
No, what perplexed theofficer was that the other two battalions attached to the 1st regiment hadn'tmade an appearance by now. He had reconnaissance teams farther to the east andas far west as the resort of Pattaya some 50 kilometers away. Nothing. Sincethe situation was going so well and he was the titular commander of this force,he went withPlanNāraṅgī. That called for the Khanate to start basing four airmobileZuunsoutof his captured airbase. There was plentiful aviation fuel, the base wasn'tabout to be overrun and having some attack helicopters at his immediate beckand call seemed prudent. Outside, an annoying journalistic team from Sky Newswere going live. They had come in with the Khanate troops, thus weren't reallyhis problem. No, he had to figure out where those other two battalions hadgotten themselves to.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Sibeal Pays A Visit.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
It is selfishto believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will beasked to earn it {Right where we left off} It was H-hour plus four. A Thai soldier fired another burst from his T A R 21. The other foursoldiers around him did the same. They were using an overturned car as cover.He saw movement at a building across the street to his right. He fired offanother few rounds. The figure fell to the ground. By hard-earned experience,he realized the enemy soldier had probably dived for cover, not been hit. "Time to fall back. One block back," he hoped he didn't sound tooshrill. "You two go first," he indicated the two townsfolk. Hisbattalion major had drafted them minutes after the attack began. Any organizedsupply depot had been an open invitation for an artillery strike, so he hadcalled for civilians to help carry the ammunition loads instead. These two hadbeen attached to his platoon. Now they were with him. They nodded, hefted up the crate of 5.56mm and sprinted toward the rear whilehis men gave them cover fire. They made it. He named off two of his other men.It was their turn to go. After their sprint to safety, it was time for him andthe last two to go. They ran past some terribly close flanking fire, but allmade it. This Thai soldier wasn't the squad leader, or even the squad's second incommand. He was a lowly Phon Thahan (Private, not 1st Class). Those two menwere already dead. No, he was a common soldier who found other men listening tohis orders so, by default, he was in command. His initial squad of ten hadshrunk down to three. The fourth man had been part of the regimental staff, adriver, sent into the firefight to replace losses. He still could point andshoot, which was all that mattered at the moment. At the next block he found the two civilians. His men dumped their empty clipson them, then positioned themselves for the next enemy rush. The leader of thisad hoc force took the driver over to the far corner of the building theysheltered behind. Too often, going inside buildings was a death trap. The enemywould corner you then call in their artillery. "Guard this corner," he told the driver. "I'll be checking up onyou." The frightened soldier nodded, then took up his post. Now he had afew seconds to consider his position. He was running out of town to retreat through.Behind him lay open fields. Just then he saw the tale-tell site of a DragonAnti-Tank missile firing from the next raised roadway to his rear-right. He couldn't see if it hit anything. There was no huge explosion. Still, itindicated that other elements of his battalion were in the fight. From whatlittle briefing he had been given when the attack started, the major had placedhis heavy machine guns and recoilless rifles on each flank to stop the enemy'smobile forces from getting around his command and surrounding them. Little did the soldier understand he was involved in a textbook defense byfoot-bound infantry versus armored opponents. His two townsmen were busyshoving bullets into the thirty round magazines. His men had already engagedthe enemy to the front. Gone were the cries of 'got him'. No one gave a damnanymore. They were too exhausted to care. Now they counted the comrades theyhad left, not the possible number of enemy out there. Six minutes later he heard the sound of death coming his way. "Everyone down," he screamed a second before an artillery roundflattened their shelter. For a few moments all he could do was gaze up at theheavens. His body hurt, his ears were ringing and the belief that he could stopnow, he had given it his best shot and his part in this battle were over. He pulled himself and examined what he had left. He wasn't hurt if you didn'tcount the blood coming out his ears. He couldn't say the same for hiscompanions. One of the townsmen had the top of his head torn off, his soullesseyes gazing up to the forever. One of his men had a smoking chunk of meat wherehis spine should have been. A second one was nursing a bad leg wound. The third soldier? He was already up and firing. The second townsmen was a bitdazed, yet looked like he could carry on. The soldier crouch-ran to check onthe driver. He was laying on his belly. For a second he mourned for that fellowthen the man got off a burst, then scooted back. He had been 'playing possum'in order to draw some enemy out. He was alive and fighting. "We have got to get out of here," he told the man. "Get to theelevated road across the field then provide cover fire for the rest ofus." The driver acknowledged the command, fired off one more burst thenbolted for the field. The Thai made his way back to his other survivors. Hegave them the same order, the civilian first. The wounded man? He couldn't make it with that leg wound and if any of theothers carried him they would most likely die too. "Cover us as long as you can," he ordered. The wounded shouldercrawled to the corner to relieve the only standing soldier. "Go," he ordered that man. Off he sprinted. The leader placed twospare clips next to the wounded man, wished him luck, then it was his turn tosprint to safety. Close to the end, a few bullets hurried him along. He foundthe others had made it unwounded as well. The townsman was already shoving morebullets into the empty magazines. To his right was the remnants of the squad with the recoilless rifle and alight machine gun. To his left was a group of six Thahan Phran, paramilitaryborder guards. He rejoined the firing line. The enemy had overrun the buildingsclosest to them and were faced with the same quandary he had just overcome, theopen field. When a man tapped his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was his company commander. "You've been doing well. I'm placing you in command of this section. Wehave a Carl Gustav (another version of a recoilless rifle) in the trees overthere," the Captain pointed to the right. Hold this position as long asyou can. Help is on the way." Before this fight, the soldier had dreaded this officer. He had been sopompous, so spit-and-polished and arrogant. Now he saw different qualities inthe man. He was cool under fire, had his mind on the bigger picture of thefight and the discipline he had instilled in his men was paying dividends theprivate soldier hadn't appreciated at that time. "You are Sip Tho (corporal) now," the officer told him. With that declaration,the common foot soldier had inherited 13 more men, the squad of seven to hisright and the six Thahan Phran to his left. Combined with his two that madesomething more like a combat command. The Captain made his way back up theline. The Thai didn't have long to appreciate his promotion. Smoke shells begandetonating between his position and the town, obscuring the place. "Remember," he shouted. "Short, controlled bursts and only shootat something that you know is out there!" With that, he had establishedhis command of the situation. Several explosions detonated in the woodedposition. Half a minute later, a tank appeared and pumped another H E into theposition. In doing so, it exposed its side to Thai's section. The two men manning his Dragon launcher looked his way. It was a shot at a 45degree angle and any heavy weapons fire would bring about all kinds of hate. "Fire," he ordered. The man aiming the device took a few seconds thenlet loose. The rocket didn't penetrate the side, but it did knock a track out. "Now we are going to get it," the Thai mumbled. A few heartbeats later, a larger TOW missile slammed into it from a position tohis command's rear. This time the tank blew up. Of equal importance to thesoldier's mind, there were men behind him and that could only mean, the secondregiment had finally arrived. He was sure he wouldn't be falling back anyfurther, giving the invaders one more inch of sacred Thai soil. It also meanthis men would most likely live to see the end of the day. That mattered too.
It was H-hour plus six. Two hour earlier, elements of the Vietnamese People's Army's 314thMechanized regiment and 206th Tank Regiment with the Mobile battalion of theLaotian 1st Division and the Khanate'sLaos ForceCommandslammed into Khon Kaen. By that time, the small city had already seen its shareof hell. Khanate forces had stormed the regional airport with an aerial assaultat 4:10 AM that morning. There were no dedicated combat troops in Khon Kaen. It was the HQ for both theRoyal Thai 3rd Division and its component 1st regiment. That had resulted in asee-saw battle until the relief force arrived from the north. After that,resistance had collapsed. Over three hundred men surrendered. A hundred milesto the north forces in the town of Udon Thani, battalions of the 1st and 2ndregiments of the 3rd Division were still in combat with Laotian and Vietnameseforces. The final outcome of that battle had yet to be decided. What did matter was that the entire command structure of northeast of Thailandhad been neutered. There were five more battalions out there that had no ideawhat to do next. They suffered from sporadic air attacks, but nothing seriouswas coming their way. What none of them were aware of was that aFar North Forceoutof the Laotian highlands had broken a battalion of the Royal Thai's 6thInfantry Division, taken Roi Et and severed the communications between the twoformations. At Roi Et, the Khanate armored spearhead had left elements of the2nd Regiment of Lao's 4th Division to hold the airport and was blazing a trailwestward along Highway 23, to the south/rear of those five battalions. South of Roi Et, two other Thai battalions were grudgingly giving ground to aregiment of Vietnam's 305th Division plus the 270th Combat Engineers and 16thArtillery Brigade. What mattered was that those forces were drawing off theefforts of the 6th Divisions to counteract the invasion. The 6th Division had its own litany of woes. It was the subject of a dozenpinpricks. The division's commander had lost contact with the other twodivisions under the 2nd Army's command. He had enemy forces to his north aroundAmnat Charoen, he'd lost contact with this 1st regiment HQ at Roi Et. His second regiment, at Ubon Ratchathani, was heavily engaged with theAlliance'sNorth Force. His 3rd regiment, spread out along thesouthern approaches to his life line, Highway 24, had discovered small teams ofSpecial Forces at every bridge and crossing, making every attempt at creating aunified front costly and ultimately futile. The 2nd Army's HQ and supply hub were at Nakhon Ratchasima. They were underattack, the airport had fallen and the sole mechanized regiment (minus onebattalion) was having a terrible time retaking it. They were presentlyincapable of coming to his defense, since their third battalion had alreadybeen called to the capital to put down unrest/enemy forces. He finally made his decision. The remnants of the 1st regiment were to retirewestward over the back roads towards the division headquarters at the Si Sa KetRailway Station. The second regiment was to hold in place until sunset. Usingall of the division's remaining assets, he was going to secure Highway 24 sothat his command could retire using that path before they were cut off anddefeated one regiment at the time.
It was H-hour plusseven. For one of the drivers in a Khanate Heavy Mountain Supply Zuun, therewasn't much to love about this mission. He was a truck driver with a weapon,not a true foot soldier. He was content with his role in logistics, which waswhy his current mission scared the crap out of him. He wasn't in an armoredvehicle and was accompanied by only one Fast Zuun ~ by its very nature alightly armored unit. Now he was driving deep into enemy territory with atruckload of Karin freedom fighters, who also were lightly equipped. He had already reached the first goal, the town of San Buri, 270 kilometersbehind enemy lines and only 60 kilometers from downtown Bangkok. There was afear that his own air force would mistake then for an enemy supply column andshoot them up. Then there was the fear that some rear echelon troops would findthe convoy suspicious and fill his unarmed vehicle with holes. His luck held,the enemy were looking to the north and east, not at a group of trucks headingsouth. Soldiers from the rebel faction of the Thai Royal Army were stationed in eachvehicle to cover any conversation with the local constabulary that might comeup. The cover story was that the unit was driving with a purpose ~ the capitalwas under attack and they were reinforcements using back roads to avoidairstrikes ~ the phone network was a mess and the fact that the plan was soaudacious, the normal police officers didn't feel the need to slow the militarytrucks down. The last phase was pure madness. They rolled down Road 304 at 80 kph. Everytime they approached a checkpoint, the unit's commander called in a hopefullyfaux airstrike, on both them and the Thai soldiers. That made it plausible forthe convoy to race forward as the troops around them were too busy diving forcover to stop them. If anything, the defenders thought those truck drivers werethe bravest men they'd ever seen. At the end of the journey, they rolled across the Road 304 Bridge over the ChaoPraya River, then dispersed. Each truck disgorged 16 Karin fighters, for atotal of 560. To that was added the 100 members of the Fast Zuun and 35drivers, three Tigr's and 59 combat troops. Miracles of miracles, they foundthe capital to be in total chaos.
It was H-hour plus 6 anda half. The Turkish Khanate commander of 100 looked south in the direction of InBuri. He was already in the 'spread chaos' phase of his operation. The centralpart of In Buri was the junction of Highways 11 and 32. Somewhere to the farnorth, friendly units were fighting their way to him. Forces retreating south,or reinforcements from Bangkok would have to pass through his position. Hecommandeered some passing civilian vehicles and created barricades on all threesides of the T-cloverleaf. Before long, the ground elements of an Airmobile Zuun had joined him. Thatallowed him to deploy several two-man observer teams over the surroundingcountryside. He left two AFV's on the bridge and camouflaged the others in thebest ambush points he could think of. Then, he waited.
It was H-hour pluseight. For Julia Atwood, this was the culmination of twenty-five years workingin Asia, covering a host of military conflicts and both natural and man-madehumanitarian disasters. She'd gotten a tip two days earlier that BangkokThailand was going to be the place to be. Since she wasn't a knownanti-government reporter, her entry into the country had been easy enough. She had spent the previous day picking a city guide, luckily finding one sheknew well, and looking around for sources of information about 'trouble'. Whatshe found was a quiet city on the edge of an explosion. The police,paramilitary forces and the military had everything battened down tight. At thesame time, the population was extremely anxious over the upcoming loyalistoffensive against the rebel northwest. The military had clamped down on all information coming out of the prospectivewar zones while exhorting on all forms of mass media the sacred traditions ofThai national identity and the need for law and order. That made the hairs onthe back of Julia's neck tingle. It spoke of an upcoming shit storm. Still, DayOne had been a bust. Few people wanted to talk about what was going on; allknown opposition leaders were in prison or in exile. She had awakened early in the morning to the sound of heavy weapons fire. Shehad been in enough war zones to know the difference between grenades exploding,or pistol, assault rifle, machine gun, and tank fire. She was hearing tankfire, which made no sense. The Thai army didn't need to use their tank's bigguns to fire at anything the opposition could bring to bear. She slipped out the back of her hotel to avoid any possible police minder,gathered up her guide and went hunting for the story. Twice she barely avoidedroving army patrols. What immediately occurred to her was these soldiers didn'tseem to know what was going on. They were jumpy (not good) and nervous (greatfor a story). Her trained ears and years of instinct led her to one of the eyes of the storm.Julia's jaw nearly dropped open. There were Central Asian men riding around inRussian equipment surrounded by throngs of hundreds, possibly thousands, ofThai 'Red Shirt' protestors marching on a police barricade. Several leaders ofthe movement had bullhorns and were communicating with the police. It was atense situation. Julia forced her way to the BMP-3M, then shouted up at the commander standingin the copula. She tried Uzbek. The man looked her way. "No. I'm Kazak. My Uzbek isn't very good," he replied. Julia's Kazakwasn't the best in the world, but she endeavored to make it work. "What are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same thing," the man smiled. "We are partof the Alliance effort to bring about democratic change in this country."Julia knew he was spouting the party line. "What are you really doing here?" she pressed. "I have no idea," he chortled. "I don't speak this language,don't know who these people are and only found out where Thailand was two daysago." "Are there a lot of you here?" "Not really." "How did you get here?" "We landed at the airport. We are a portion of an airmobile Zuun." Just then one of the protestors tried to get the unit leader's attention. Hekept repeating something. "He wants you to advance on the police line and look menacing," shetranslated. "Okay," the Khanate officer shrugged. "That I can do." He spoke rapid fire Kazak, which Julia couldn't quite follow. Her ride lurchedforward, the crowd parted and she could see the blood drain out of the policecommander's face. Without looking her way, the Kazak spoke to Julia. "Tell them they have thirty seconds to put down their arms or I'm going toshred the lot of them." Julia thought about it for a second. She was recording this exchange on hercamcorder. She knew this was straying dangerously close to becoming aparticipant, not a reporter. She translated to the Thai young man. He sprintedtoward the police and relayed the message. She had no idea what a 100mmfragmentation shell would do, had an idea how bloody a 30mm auto-cannon couldget and had great familiarity with the effectiveness of 12.7 & 7.62mmmachine guns. The lead protestor had a rapid discussion with the lead policeman, bowing andbegging for this situation to be resolved peacefully. The countdown reachedeight when the officer indicated his acquiescence. The mob didn't surge forwardvictoriously. Julia slapped the turret to get the Kazak's attention. "You don't need to fire." "I understand that," the man acknowledged. It wasn't over though.Another protestor, a woman, waved for the Kazak's attention. Since she wasn'talone in doing so, the man hadn't noticed her. What she was saying did getJulia's attention.
"She is saying thattanks are on the way!" she shouted at the man in the copula. "Which direction?" he inquired. Julia confirmed the informationrelayed by the girl, who double checked with the person on the other end of herphone, worked out the terrain in her head, then drew a quick map on her palm. "They are coming up the road one block up. They are heading north towardus." "Clear out the crowd," he responded evenly. He once more ordered hisunit to action. One of the Tigr's raced forward and disgorged its men close tothe next corner then the vehicle withdrew. "What do you plan to do?" she asked. "Do what I came here to do, kill the enemy." "But they have tanks." "Fortunately I have things that kill tanks," he grinned. "Do you mind if I stick around?" "It is your life," he shrugged. The BMP moved forward to the pointwhere, with its barrel turned sideways, the vehicle was just short of exposingitself. He was busy talking to someone else. Seconds later, one of the Khanate soldiers at the corner launched a grenade upthe street, then two others opened fire with their assault rifles. They duckedback around the corner right as a larger caliber machine gun chewed up the wallas well as the street in front of her. Two other soldiers fired off flares intothe sky. "You might want to get down," the Kazak advised her. Julia nodded,jumped off and ran to the corner to join the other troopers. She edged aroundthe corner, leading with her camcorder. Sure enough, up the street was anhonest-to-God tank, with others behind it. One of the foot-bound Kazaks wasbusy shouting at the others. Once more, a soldier fired a grenade at the tank,to no visible effect. This time he apparently got the response the Kazakswanted. The tank's big gun fired. One of the troopers, mindful of Julia, grabbed her asthey propelled themselves to the ground. The world exploded. Julia was doing aquick check of her well-being when she heard the BMP race forward, barrelturned perpendicular down the street and then it fired. Julia barely caught itall on her camera. The IFV had fired an anti-tank missile out of its main gun.The oncoming tank was a Ukrainian made T-84 Oplot. It exploded; the turret flying away in a curtain of flame. This time it was theblast that blew Julia to the ground. A Kazak soldier hefted her up and pulledher to safety. He was truly pissed when she dodged back into the danger zone toretrieve her camcorder. She sighed happily when she found it undamaged. The BMProlled back behind cover. "Get down," the Kazak ground pounder growled. "It is about toget a whole lot worse." "How?" she looked at him. "Well, now that we have stopped the column from moving," he grinnedlike a maniac. That wasn't much of an answer. Then she noted all the Kazaksclutching at the concrete sidewalks. She did likewise. Seconds later, she heardthe jets. 'Oh God', she gulped. She'd seen more than her fair share ofairstrikes. She had never been this close to one. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Thai crowd moving closer. "Get down," she screamed in Thai. "Get Down!" Others repeated her warning and the crowed went down to their knees. Then camethe thunder. Julia could barely make out the whoosh of missiles before thedetonating rockets and missiles shook her world. A stubby-winged jet raced past her vision. The pilot had gotten so damn closeto the building tops she could make out every feature of his aircraft. Thislevel of caution where civilians were concerned was surprisingly unlike theKhanate. She tried to stand, but the soldier next to her had wrapped an armaround her. "They come in twos," he cautioned her. Sure enough another series of explosions rocked her surroundings. No sooner hadshe gotten to her feet, the Kazak commander shouted, "They are coming around for another pass, then we go!" A series of passes followed with the jets using auto-cannons on whomever wasleft out there. Julia pushed away from her guardian and rushed up to the BMP officer. "Wait," she called to him. Stunningly, he waited, looking at her."Let the crowd save the survivors. This is their struggle too." "If the soldiers fire on them there will be little I can do," heresponded. "Give them a chance." Against all her expectations, he did. The crowd moved to discover the carnagevisited on their oppressors, and fellow countrymen.
It was H-hour pluseight. The Thai tank commander was close to the end of his rope. He'd beenfighting since sunrise. Defend, attack, withdraw to a defensive position thenwait for the order to counterattack. His platoon had dwindled down to his solesurviving tank. His company no longer acted as a separate entity. Now hisbattalion, barely a company in strength, operated as a fire brigade, shoring uphis beleaguered battle group. The last attack, backed by air power, had shattered his unit. He fell back,literally backing into a second story building to avoid the ever-presentAlliance attack helicopters. From his vantage point he could see a column ofarmored vehicles rolling down Highway 11. He was debating which one he wouldfire on first when he noticed a jeep coming his way. Onboard were three Thaisoldiers, rebels. The jeep rolled right up to his hiding spot. The man in the back dismounted andhe walked right up to the tank. "Can we talk?" the man inquired. The tank commander kept him coveredwith this machine gun. "What do you have to say, traitor?" he barked. "I come to request," "We will not surrender," he growled. "We are not asking you to surrender," the man corrected him. "Weare asking you to let the war pass you by." "Why should I?" "If you fight, you will be destroyed. The Thai army will need to rebuildwhen this is over and we must be strong. If you throw your life away, we willall be weaker." The tank commander had to think that over. If he began firing on that armoredcolumn he would be striking a mighty blow for his country. He would also besentencing him and his men to death. "There will be no surrender?" "No sir," the man insisted. The rebel soldier made some sense. The Thai military would have to rebuild whenthis catastrophe was over. He and his men had done their part. "We will stay here for a while," the tank commander informed therebel. "Very well," the soldier bowed. He remounted his jeep and drove away. "We are going to stay here a while," he addressed his crewmen."Get a bite to eat and a drink of water." His men hesitated for a moment. "Now, while we have the chance." The men hopped to. They had their orders. They would worry about the moralityof their actions later.
It was H-hour plus nine. The men in the Royal Thai Army's high command were finally getting aholdof the big picture. The good news was the Third Army's offensive was grindingto a halt along a line stretching along Highway 1 from Tham Pet Tham TongForest in the east to Chai Nat on the Chao Praya River in the west. It wasaccepted as fact that the 3rd Cavalry and 11th Infantry divisions could holdthe line. West of the Chao Praya was a chaotic mess of small garrisons involved in raidsand counter-raids. It was deemed unlikely the Alliance forces could pushforward any further in that direction either. It also meant that they couldn'tpull units from that region to reinforce any of their other trouble points andthey had a few. That was most of the good news. Another piece of good news was the1st Army's 2nd Infantry Division had stoppedthe invasion force they were facing only a few kilometers over the frontier inthe area of Watthana Nakhon District. As soon as they had gathered the majorityof the division together, they would be mounting a counter-offensive with theintention of overwhelming that force and destroying it. After that, it only got worse. In the area of the 2nd Army, the 3rd Infantry Division and the 2nd CavalryDivision had virtually ceased to exist as cohesive forces. Two battalions ofthe 3rd Division were retreating south into the 6th Division's area. The 2ndCavalry division had been reduced pre-battle to one mechanized regiment. Thatregiment was gone and with it, the supply routes for the 2nd Royal Thai Army. Inside that zone, the 6th Infantry Division still existed, but it was in aworld of trouble. They had lost control of Highway 24, their primarysupply/evacuation route, and were relentlessly being driven out of UbonRatchathani. Even with the slowly arriving battalions of the 3rd Division, the6th could barely muster two combat-effective regiments and those were runningshort of fuel and ammunition. The 6th had become a static force, too large tobe overwhelmed, too immobile to press the enemy out, or save themselves from aslow strangulation. Had they their assigned tank battalion, but they didn't. The 1st Army's 9th Division was in the worst shape. They had gathered into oneelliptical shaped perimeter centered on Chanthaburi and were down to fourbattalions and two tanks. Technically, they had another battalion, except the1st Army command had ordered that into Bangkok to aid in suppressing the rebelmovement. The 9th Division was surrounded, under attack from the land, sea (theIndian Navy had joined the fight) and air. Their commanding general expected tobe wiped out before sunset. And Bangkok? It was turning into a typhoon scale disaster. They had finally determined thatthere were eight small Khanate platoons roaming the city, seemingly at will.The 1st Division had finally located and destroyed one of those, along with adozen protestors who chose to fight by their side. The others were still atlarge and causing trouble. That wasn't the worst of it though. The plan had been to pacify outlyingneighborhoods and work their way in to the worst areas. That had started outeffectively, then suddenly they had lost the northwestern and southeasternsectors. In the northwest, there were Karin fighters killing, or capturingpolice and paramilitary strongpoints. In the southeast, it was much worse. Unknown armored troops from the 9thDivision's rear area had come seeping in along the riverfront. They seemed tobe everywhere at once, surprising roadblocks and checkpoints then ambushing theforces sent to restore order. They were a cancer pushing into a city alreadyshort on reserves. There were public displays of defiance going out over the international news,surgical air strikes and a growing sense among the rank and file 'Guardians ofthe Public Order' that they were on the losing side. There were reports ofpolice turning their backs on the unrest, directing traffic and arresting pettycriminals instead. The Royal Thai Army in Bangkok still had over 50,000 men under its command.They were sure they were facing less than a thousand hardcore militants, yetthey were losing control of the streets. Part of that was caused by themilitary being tied down to certain strategic areas they had to hold. They hadto protect over a dozen buildings and, as they had painfully learned, a platoonwouldn't do. The Government House had been temporarily overrun and Parliament had beenshelled. Channel 3 had been hijacked and the forces sent to take it back hadbeen subject to intense helicopter attacks and driven back. They'd killed twosuch craft, but that only seemed to make the Alliance troops angrier. This waswhat a death by a thousand cuts felt like. This was worse than bad, because itlooked bad on media going out all over the world.
It was H-hour plus twelve. The commander of the MARCOS had finally taken the time to eat. He was inthe Maleenont Towers section of Khlong Toei, Bangkok. It had been hismasterstroke, seizing the Channel 3 station. He wasn't sure who the eight shadycharacters who showed up with the VIPs were and he didn't really care. What didmatter was while the VIP's fought like wildcats in private they were putting ona unified front while on TV. One of the VIPs was the former civilian Prime Minister of Thailand. The otherguys seemed to hate her guts, but were willing to work with her to overthrowthe generals. What he did care about was the nearly five hundred men under hiscommand plus a dozen helicopters and jets somewhere above, waiting to swoop inand help when the next government attack materialized. He had to give them this much, the police forces had guts, not a lot of brains,but plenty of guts. Their counter-terrorism unit had known their stuff, butthey didn't have any effective anti-tank weapons and he had a half dozen tanks.Whenever the army got feisty, he called up'Shiva's Fist'~his men's joking reference to the Khanate air support. Those bastards not onlykilled you, they came back around and killed your corpse too. He got a call from the perimeter. Some of those Karin fighters had crossed halfthe city to join them. The Indian officer had thought that part of the Khanateplan was utter madness, yet here they were, shooting up the place in a manneronly highly experienced insurgents could. Those guys didn't even want to hangaround. They were asking for more ammo. The locals were giving them all thefood and water they needed. At nine, once it was truly dark, the Khanate was promising to drop off a fewtons of whatever they need plus some more medivac units. He was down nine mendead and twenty-seven wounded badly enough they need to be removed. The Khanatehad lost four times as many. All in all, the overthrow of a military regime wasturning out to not be as difficult as he thought it would be. He was waiting tobe surprised.
It was H-hour plusfifteen. The fighting had died down and now the main activity was the Thai civicauthorities fighting the fires burning in Saraburi. The Khanate Commander of1000 looked over his shoulder at the burning city. It hadn't been much of afight, mainly a few rear echelon forces from the Royal Thai 2nd Army and someparamilitaries. He wasn't in the town. The majority of his troopers had already rolled down tothe junction of Highways 1 and 33. He had communication with other elementsfarther west on Highway 32 at Ang Thong and to the northwest at the junction ofHighways 1 and 32. The offensive operations was essentially over for hiscommand. That was just as well. He was running low on petrol. He still hadplenty of ammunition though. They were sitting on the lifeline for the 1st Army's 3rd Cavalry and 11thDivision to the north and the 2nd Division to the east. The 6th Division wastoo far in his rear to matter and the 9th Division was facing annihilationalong the coast. It was very dark now, but the air force was still active. Somepilots were flying their sixteenth mission of the day. For most of the day, the Khanate Air Force had concentrated on his axis ofadvance and the battle in Bangkok. The Vietnamese Air Force had concentrated onthe hapless 9th Division. In reality, the Alliance was almost at the end of itstether. His combinedLaosandFar NorthTask Forceswere spent. TheNorthandCambodianTaskForces had the 6th Division pinned down. TheSouthTask Forcehad done the same with the 9th. Only theCentralTask Forcefacing the 2nd Division appeared to be in serious trouble. None of those formations were actually near defeat, though many of themwouldn't realize that until morning. Only the 3rd Army's two task force hadconsisted of more than 5,000 hastily gathered troops and most of those wereCambodians, Laotians and Vietnamese. To that the Khanate had added 50 mobileZuuns spread over ten task forces and another 50 airmobile, parachute andairlifted units ~ less than ten thousand men and women spread over all fronts. The cold, hard reality for him was that not a single loyalist Thai unit hadbeen destroyed. The 3rd and 9th infantry divisions has been battered, that wastrue. The majority of their mobile forces, the 2nd and 3rd cavalry divisions,still existed as a potent force. The 11th and 2nd infantry divisions were alsoout there, but they were all cut off from the capital. And in this elegantglobal play, the one theater that mattered was Bangkok. In the morning, if they came for him, the loyalist Thai's were going todiscover that offense was a lot more painful that defense. Only the 2ndDivision bothered him. The forces to the north were too heavily engaged withthe rebel Thai 3rd Army to dispatch more than a battalion his way and he wouldgobble up a battalion. It would be too much to ask the battered AllianceCenterTaskForce to keep the 2nd Division occupied. From what he had heard, they were onthe verge of disintegration after a powerful Loyalist counterattack. He didhave patrols on the 304 and 359 Roads in case their commander got creative.What those few men lacked in vehicles, they would compensate for with airpower. The Khanate Air Force was a 24/7, all-weather operation. They had lost 40aircraft to enemy action and a further forty to mechanical malfunction. Lossesin helicopters was also high. But there were still enough of both to get thejob done. Now all he had to do was wait for the Americans to arrive.
It was H-hour plusseventeen. There were only three major acts left in this macabre play before theeyes of the world. A squadron of 12 Tu-22M bombers found two of the 2nd Division's regimentssneaking to the west. The Thais had done this with as much secrecy as theycould. Unfortunately, their move was one of only two option left to theLoyalist Royal Thai Army. Option One, the most likely one, had the 2nd Division attacking the Khanatetroops south of Saraburi. It would not only give the 2nd Division freedom ofmovement, it would establish supply lines to the divisions currently holdingthe rebel Thai Third Army at bay. It was the predictable choice. The Khanate U A V were out there, scouting for them and when they spotted thethree columns using the backroads to approach their attack positions, theyrelayed that information to a not-so-distant A-50E/I. The squadron of waitingbombers had incredible endurance and had been circling the suspected targetarea for three hours. They broke up into groups of six then into groups of two.The first two lined up on their targets then unleashed their lethal cargo. Each plane dropped sixty-nine 250 kg bombs. That was138 bombs with a combinedexplosive power of 75,900 lbs. spread out over three-quarters of a mile. TheA-50 assessed the damage for 7 minutes before sending the second set of two in.Another 138 bombs. Another 75,900 lbs. of death. The third group wouldn't beneeded. In ten minutes the fighting power of the 2nd Royal Thai InfantryDivision had evaporated. Option Two? That called for the 1st Infantry Division, with her added units, tosally forth from Bangkok and rescue the trapped elements of their otherdivisions. That would have entailed abandoning large areas of the capital tothe protestors and the tiny groups of invaders that were helping them. No onethought they would do that and they were right. Had they been wrong, there wasanother squadron of bombers waiting for them.
It was H-hour plusnineteen. The Thai Phon Thahan-turned-Sip Tho looked out into the darkness. Fourhours ago he was anticipating crossing the Cambodian border and burning downtheir town for a change. Now, now it was wait-and-see. The majority of thedivision had withdrawn for a long night march to the west. From what he hadgathered, the 2nd Army had been pummeled and it was once again the time for the2nd Division to save the day. He spotted movement in front of him. He glanced over to his 'sniper', a ThahanPhran who was the best shot in his unit and had a taste for the task. The manhad the target in his sights.
"I come toparlay," the voice in the darkness shouted in less than perfect Thai. TheThai soldier had to think what that meant. His instinct was to shoot the man.His training taught him to not make choices above his pay grade. "Advance. Don't do anything stupid," he called out. To the man nextto him he whispered, "Go get the Captain." The man slunk away. No onealive in the unit stood up to do anything. You even pissed crouched down. Theman coming toward him was a Cambodian. It was evident in both his gear andaccent. "What do you want?" "We want a truce," the man replied. He remained very erect, his handsin the air and only made slow, careful movements. "I should shoot you," he growled. "That would be unfortunate for both of us. I would, of course, be dead,and my allies would open up with our artillery." The conversation was truncated by the captain's arrival. They went through muchof the same routine, absent the 'I should kill you part' and thecounter-threat. The captain turned to the Thai soldier. "Blindfold and bind this man's hands then take him to the Phan Ek(Colonel). Let him figure this out." Without the soldier saying anything the Captain added, "This could be aruse. I must stay here. Hurry." He nodded, took a shirt from one of the civilian volunteers, cut it into stripsthen blindfolded and bound the man. "If you so much as sneeze, I'll put a bullet in your head," he warnedthe man. "I understand," the Cambodian replied. The soldier took the Cambodianone block behind the lines, spun the man around several times, then led himtoward the command bunker. He spun him around twice more before making hisfinal approach. A wounded junior officer met him at the entrance. "Come on," he took custody of the man. Having nothing else to do andnot having been ordered to release the prisoner, the soldier followed along. The Regimental Commander had the man un-blindfolded. His hands remained bound. "What do your masters want?" the Major snapped. "They want a truce," the Cambodian blinked in the sudden brightlight. "You invaded us without a declaration of war. That makes you criminals,not combatants." "We attacked at the request of the legitimate authority in Thailand, theCommanding General of the Royal Thai Third Army." "Those men are rebels and you will not refer to them as anythingbut," the Phan Ek insisted. "Very well. My Commander wishes to let you know that our mobile hospitalhas arrived. We wish to exchange prisoners and place our facilities at yourdisposal as well." "The Royal Thai army will be there soon enough," the Major glowered. "Unlikely. Our Khanate allies have informed us that most of your divisionwas destroyed on the road. You have one battered regiment and a handful oftanks. You are not going anywhere." The soldier wanted to slap the smug smile off the man's face. "I do not have the authority to hand over prisoners until their status asPOWs or criminals has been established," the senior officer countered. "If you consider our men criminals, we will treat your men liketraitors." "Are you threatening me?" "Yes. A fact you should be aware of is that the Khanate has been flying inreinforcements since noon and we have five more armored, mechanized andartillery Zuuns to attack with. Come sunrise, we will be coming at you againunless we have a truce." "Now you are threatening us again," the Phan Ek pointed out. "I am explaining the realities of your situation, nothing more," theCambodian countered. "Our task force commander believes that furtherviolence will be futile. You have done your job and we have done ours." "And your job was to keep us occupied so you could rape and pillage otherparts of our country?" "No sir. The Alliance forces have been operating under very strictguidelines. The Thai people are our allies and we are a liberating force,"the Cambodian replied. "You consider this town 'liberated'? You've destroyed it," the PhanEk noted. "It was unfortunate that you chose to fight us here." The Colonel studied the man silently for thirty seconds. "I will agree to a two hour truce. That should allow me to contact mysuperiors for further clarification on my mission. We will hand over anycritically injured 'invaders'. You will return any POW's you are holding inexchange." "Agreed," the Cambodian immediately responded. "Just like that? It is really within your authority to make such adeal?" "As I said earlier Phan Ek, we believe the fighting is over. We don't needyour captured men. We would like to see as many as our comrades live as possible.No matter what your commanders say, the fact remains that if you come out ofthese ruins, you will be slaughtered. You know that. I know that. Peace is theonly avenue that leads to any level of success. Today, today, both our forcesdid what our commanders told us to do. The dying should stop." "Go. The truce will take effect in, fifteen minutes ~ 12:12 am. We willtransfer prisoners and wounded at your point of entry. We will both give awarning whistle fifteen, ten, five and one minute before the truce ends at 2:12am. Do you understand?" The Cambodian repeated the terms of the truce. He was bound up then sent backwith the Sip Tho. "Do you really think this is the end of the fighting," he asked hisblind captive. "On the lives of my children I hope so," the man sighed. "I led88 men into battle this morning and now I'm down to 46 effectives. I have losttoo many already for a battle that wasn't in my nation's best interest. I amtired of the killing." "Me too," the Thai said a moment later. After he delivered him to theCaptain on the front lines, the man was unbound. "Good luck," he found himself saying. "Good luck for both of us," the Cambodian gave a weary smile."May we not meet again." "If I see you again, I will kill you." "I feel the same way," the man chuckled. "We are both soldiersdoing what more powerful men have commanded us to do. I don't know about you,but I have had enough." Several Thai soldiers nodded. They had driven theenemy off Thai soil. Continuing the fight didn't seem to have much of a point.
It was H-hour plustwenty. News anchors, expert commentators and historians would hotly debateexactly what the officers of the 31st regiment (Royal Thai Guards) and theRoyal Cadet Guard-Naval Academy meant to do when they gathered their units atthe Chitralada Royal Villa. King of Thailand, Bhumibol Adulyadej aka Rama IX,was in residence, as was Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn. Until he granted their commanding officers an audience at 10 pm, the King hadbeen largely unaware of the greater turmoil in his country. Yes, he knew aboutthe Third Army's rebellion as well as the Navy, Air Force and 4th Army stayingneutral. He had been hearing noises of combat coming from all corners of hiscapital. What he didn't fully understand was the beating his military wastaking in the field, or the perceived precarious situation the Army faced inBangkok. One possible interpretation of what happened was these officers, aware thatthere was fighting getting closer to the Royal Residence, went to safeguard hisMajesty with no ulterior motive. That viewpoint suggested the Crown Prince tookthe initiative to end the suffering of his nation and decided to make a publicannouncement from the Grand Palace (the public royal residence), appealing forthe cessation of hostilities, for both sides to separate until a council couldconvene in the morning to resolve the situation peaceably. Another possible view was the Admiral and Colonel came pleading for the King todo something to end the chaos and the King followed the men's advice. Heconvinced the Crown Prince to go to the Grand Palace and end the conflict. A third possibility was this was a counter-coup, led by the Royal Guards andthe Navy Cadets who 'convinced' the King and Crown Prince that they had toexercise the threat of l What did happen? The King was quite old (86), so it fell to the Crown Prince(62) to take an active role in the matter in his father's name. In a mannerthat was never clarified, he was able to communicate with the Great Khan, whopersonally pledged a withdrawal of his forces if that is what his 'brother'in the Chakri Dynasty desired. The Great Khan then contacted the governments of Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam,requesting they also halt their forces and take up a purely defensive stance(i.e. they had done their part so he would now pay them for their troubles ~mainly in the form of updated military hardware). The Crown Prince then contacted the Commander of the Royal Third Army andcommanded/suggested that a civil war was not in the nation's best interest. Hewas then escorted to the Grand Palace where he made a public announcement overevery major media network that he had elicited a cease-fire with the rebels andtheir allies. First off, he promised the Thai people that they were giving up nothing in thisarrangement. The Civil War would end, because he said so and if the loyalistRoyal Thai forces who claimed to be serving him (through his father) were trulydoing so, they would also immediately cease hostilities. He requested allconcerned parties meet at the Great Palace in the morning at nine to work outthe particulars of the end of the current civil disorder. Both civilian andmilitary representatives would be present. Furthermore, he directed the Royal Thai Marine regiments to move into Bangkokand separate the warring forces, thus ensuring the cease-fire. He was alsoaccepting the offer from the President of the United States to deploy a USMarine Amphibious Unit to the countryside to separate the combatants there. TheAlliance High Command had already guaranteed they would hold open the capturedair bases to facilitate that move. Once disengagement had been achieved, he had a personal guarantee from theGreat Khan, monarch to monarch, that the Great Khan and the other alliedgovernments would withdraw to their respective borders within a week, if notsooner. The country would unite. The country would rebuild. Together, allfactions of Thai society would create a stable future.
It was H-hour plustwenty-five. Effectively, the war was over, although small skirmishes wouldcontinue until sunrise. Had the Crown Prince the authority to do any of that? No. He had ministersappointed by the Parliament that took care of things like foreign and civilaffairs. He was titular head of the armed forces, but had no actual authorityto command. What he did have was a deep well-spring of respect among his peopleincluding many leaders in the military. He was throwing down a gauntlet thatvery easily could be trampled into the mud. In his favor, not a single faction wanted to be the one to do that. Themilitary had its sworn oaths to consider. Those oaths bound the generalstogether and bound their underlings to them. They couldn't very well declarethey were serving the will of the King any longer if they defied the CrownPrince now. For the civilian leaders, this was their best avenue to return to power. Theywere saved the ugly perception that they were relying on foreign interventionto achieve their aims. The outsiders were going away. The Crown Prince had,somehow, gotten them to back off solely with the weight of his personality. Hehad achieved the military victory the Army had failed to deliver and he hadn'tkilled a single person doing it. For the protesters in the street? They were high on the use of force (by theallies) to repress the use of force (by the Army). The protesting populationnow controlled large sections of Bangkok and had garnered a great deal ofpolice neutrality/cooperation in the process. Besides, while they had beencomrades in the streets facing down the military junta, they were still dividedin their political views. What would be the outcome? That was what street protests were all about. Bothsides had their 'favored son/daughter' they followed, political parties theyadhered to and grievances they wanted addressed. Civilian governments hadcollapsed under their own weight of accusations and charges of corruptionbefore and they probably would again. That part of Thai politics remaineduntouched by the recent national tragedy. What had been accomplished? The next time the Commander of the Armed Forcesthought about taking power, he would have to to examine the precedentestablished by the Khanate: ... now the various civilian factions could appeal for foreign intervention toprotect their civil liberties. Also, a civilian authority was the most likely outcome of the upcoming NationalReconciliation Government and they would owe that freedom to the Khanate andwould, to a degree, view the Great Khan as the guarantee that the militarywouldn't put tanks on the streets anytime soon. The Khanate? She got what she wanted, a stable, friendly southern flank. The Alliance's Southeast Asian members? Those three allies would be gettingseveral shipments of 'nearly' modern hardware with additional aid to help thenmaintain said technology in working order. India? A stable, friendly government would ally with India (not China) to buildtheir canal thru the Kra Isthmus. The creation of the India-Thailand KraInfrastructure Investment and Development Company (ITKIIDC) was already movingthrough the Indian parliament. The expected income from tolls alone wasexpected to accede $400 million a year (though that alone would take70yearsto pay off the predicted $28 billion price tag, Hoo-raah Big Government). Thailand? A brief brutal civil war that could have been a whole lot worse ~unless you had actually been in one of the war zones. Maybe they would get ademocratic government. Their economy hadn't taken that much of a beating, andthere would be plenty of reconstruction jobs. The IMF would probably pump in afew million into the economy to 'help out'. It had been bad; it could have beenworse. The Philippines? Why were we involved with that again? It was back to thebargaining table with the Khanate, India and Vietnam once more. Nothing muchhad changed. The Republic of China? The Khanate still loved them. An invasion of themainland was still in the works. It was back to working on the South Korean,Japanese, ROC, Vietnam, India and Khanate alliance network dedicated tocontaining the PRC because the Red Dragon was far from finished. Malaysia? Not much had changed. Some Malaysian Marines were on their way toThailand as part of a humanitarian mission, so it wasn't like Thailand hatedthem. The Khanate tide had receded far short of the border. The US had edged atad closer and had become a little bit more engaged in the South China Sea. Allin all, it could have been much worse. The Khanate could have been sitting ontheir border, much worse. The United States? The President of the United States wasThePeacemaker. His tiny military presence was up to the task of acting likecrossing guards as they escorted the 'Alliance' back across their respectivefrontiers. Not only was this his chance to say'See, I did something',,without him having to do anything until after the fact since the Crown Princeand the Great Khan had created the cease-fire. As well as'See, I can do thisNation-Building thingwithoutspending several trillion dollars',, Without doing any actualnation-buildingsincethe Thai's would be doing that themselves. And'See, the greatest military power in Asia respects us enough toback off when we arrive',, while not having to talk to the Khanate in anyofficial capacity, because, you know, the Great Khan was stillTheBad Guy, revisit the bio-terrorism, genoicide and War of Aggressionthen subtract one Free Tibet, and now one Democratic Thailand. For the daring men and women of the US Military there was an'Attaboy/girl/team, I knew you could do this, thanks for risking your lives'andan'Oh, by the way, I'm cutting the Defense budget again next year.Have fun being RIFed. I'm sure you will find a job in the private sector, noproblem'. One horrifying/awe-inspiring thing had been revealed during the 'ThaiExpedition'. That was the Khanate's airlift capabilities. It rivaled that ofthe US and dwarfed every other nation's in comparison. The 'why' of the mattermade total sense in hindsight. The Khanate knew it would control a massive expanse of space, yet she wassaddled with a weak all-weather road network and an inadequate railway system.Furthermore, the resource-rich East was separated by the Caspian Sea from theindustrialized West. She had to be prepared to move massive numbers of troopsover incredible distances and airlift was the only possible answer. In a total of seventy-two hours (counting the troops brought in while thecampaign was going on) they had brought in nearly 15,000 soldiers, enoughhardware to equip a mechanized Tumen plus the logistical support for thosewarriors and over 500 aircraft. It had been an awesome endeavor and somethingnew for the Pentagon war-planners to factor in the next time they needed tofight/ally with the Great Khan. Meanwhile: been RIFed? The Khanate desperately needed you if you had (any) engineering,infrastructure, judicial, law enforcement, logistics, medical, and/or militaryexpertise, and they payed you well for something you would have been doing inthe US/UK military, had either of those institutions still employed you. Andworking for The Khanate was okay because they had (barely) avoided being a USenemy by dint of a back-room meeting that never officially happened. Note: End explanation of how things played out in the Battle for Thailand. {9:00 pm, Tuesday, September 2nd ~ 6 Days to go} "I suggest we all get some sleep," Addison declared as she stood upand stretched. Odette was asleep on the floor, her head propped up by a pillow.The rest of us look like we'd, been up for the past three days with onlycat-naps breaking up the tedium between reports from various sources, namelythe NRO (National Reconnaissance Office), Khanate and the Black Lotus. By the time the major news outlets brought up the 'current events' we hadalready digested it and moved on to the next crisis point. As they had learned,'Live from the Front Lines' sounded nice, but it wasn't all that informative.Like most sane individuals, reporters and cameramen ducked when people wereshooting at them, so you got plenty of good footage of what thedirt/walls/pavement in Thailand looked like. Around eight o'clock yesterday morning, Bangkok time, an 'expert' commentatorbrought up the point that the news crews on the 'Alliance's' side of the storywere in Thailand illegally, thus prone to get shot at. "But they are the Press," a cute news anchor babbled. "Isn'tthat a war crime, or something?" All I could think of was that with those smarts and those lips, she had to givetremendous head. Don't get me wrong, she was clearly college-educated, but shewas also lost in some alternate reality bubble where bullets instinctively knewwho not to kill. "They are imbedded with an invading army," the female expert sighed."I don't think the average Thai soldier can tell the difference between acivilian cameraman aiming his way and, say, a Khanate soldier with a rocketlauncher. I imagine that looking down the barrel, they appear to be the samething." "But they have 'Press' on their helmets and arm badges," she refusedto relent to the other woman's common sense. The female commentator was gettingpissed, so she got snide.
"I know. I haveseen them. We all have. Unfortunately, while I have seen plenty of them inEnglish, Hindi, Spanish, German, Russian and French, I have yet to see one inThai, which would make it rather hard for the average Thai infantryman tounderstand what those symbols mean." "Oh," the talking head muttered. "Why didn't the Khanate dosomething about this? Aren't they responsible for their safety?" "Well," the commentator rolled her eyes, "I doubt the Khanateconscripted those journalist and short of them living in a hole for the pastweek, they had to know to what country they were going to. This level ofstupidity is all yours." "Ah, okay. Why don't we go back to Marcel? Marcel, how are youdoing?" "It is horrible," the terrified man screamed. "People arekilling people everywhere and the two Khanate guards attached to me don't seemto understand English so they won't take us back to the rear area." "Where did you get this guy?" the expert's brow furrowed."Doesn't he know that in this kind of action, there are no rearareas." Pause for the sound of rifle fire. "Wait! Wait! Here is anofficer. Captain, Colonel, Major," he stammered, "Can you tell us whatis going on?" "It is Ni Z "They are shooting at us," the field reporter wailed. "No. We are shooting at them. They can't hit us here. You are in minimaldanger," he assured the reporter. "What is going on?" "We are quelling the last of the resistance in the town of Rayong as perour orders." "Have there been many civilian casualties?" "Yes." "How many?" "I don't think anyone will be counting them until tomorrow morning at theearliest. Since we are currently in the middle of an invasion, we don't havethe time, or resources. Do you want to interview some prisoners? We have someclose by." "That, that would be nice," the reporter gulped. "I wonder if any of those prisoners speak English," the expertmumbled. They never got the chance to find out because thirty seconds later theZuun Commander began issuing orders. He was reconnecting his men with theirIFVs and was getting ready to head somewhere with a purpose. "Where are you going?" the reporter bleated. "Exactly? I don't know. My orders are to head west," the officer shrugged."I fully expect to get more precise information on the road." "You don't know?" the man paled. "I'm not in charge, this is mobile warfare, and we've already accomplishedthe second phase of our mission," he explained as he mounted his ownBMP-3. "Now one of our scouts has run into trouble and we are going tomake a reconnaissance in force." "Does anyone think that bozo has any idea what reconnaissance in forcemeans?" Odette had interjected. "I don't think your man knows what is going on," the expert parroted."Can't he at least ask what the first two phases of the missionwere?" "Unlikely," Chaz commented, darkly amused. "Odette, I think yourmoney is safe." Chaz had been watching this newsman with some interest since he came on linetwo hours ago. He didn't care a damn about the man and his lack of courage. No,his eyes and ears were glued to the masked men who seemed to be working as'advisors' to the Khanate forces. Chaz had never seen the MARCOS in action. Few people had and here he was with alive action viewpoint. Had the reporter been less of a coward, he might hadlearned more. As it was, Chaz figured out that the Indian Special Forces werecalling the shots while the Khanate provided the firepower. It was a level of cooperation that was chilling to watch. The Khanate warriorsdidn't resent the orders the Indian's gave in the least. That level of trustwas telling for future operations between India and the Khanate. "What about us?" the reporter asked. "Jump on if you like. We have orders to accommodate you," the Kazakoffered. "But where are we going?" "To find more Thai soldiers todisarm, of course. We won't bepurchasing any curios until later this afternoon," the officer grinned. "Won't they be shooting at us?" "That is the nature of war, guns being fired, air strikes, land mines,snipers. Don't let me discourage you though." "Ah," the reporter stammered. "Bleep this Bleep. I'm coming along," the cameraman declared. The mansprinted around the vehicle and ran up the back ramp, filming all the way. Soonenough the door would close and, the reporter, nothing more was heard of him,for some time. "Worked for Sky News," Agent 86 yawned. The Sky News face man had had a spectacular on-scene death, shot through thehead by a sniper. His cameraman was carrying on without him quite well.Whatever awards cameramen got for exceptional videography, that man deservedthem all. He snuck around with Khanate soldiers as they engaged in fire-fights,had dragged a wounded trooper to cover, while still filming, and returned tothe fight. Next, Next the leader of the Special Forces team issued his commands, inEnglish while the Khanate troops hurried to obey. In three minutes, the unithad abandoned the ruins of Rayong and was headed toward the tourist mecca ofChon Buri. The JIKIT members looked at the video map. Chon Buri was due southof Bangkok and if the tiny task group could advance that far, maybe they couldcause some major trouble in the city, as long as you took into account thatthey had roughly 100 Elite Special Forces, 450 men in armored vehicles and sixtanks. That revelation had brought aboutOperation Walnut~ the BlackLotus C I A rescue of key political prisoners and linking them up with thisnew, highly lethal detachment. At worst, they could be exited from the citythus free to take to the airwaves and internet with their calls for furthersocial action. Instead of letting the Black Lotus (the C I A had to makethemselves scarce) come to him, the MOROS leader decided to go seize a TVstation downtown and meet the politicians there. In anything approaching a normal combat operation, things like this wouldn'thave happened, or so Captain Delilah Faircloth, R A F, informed us. Thisinvasion was far from normal. On the CNN and BBC maps, Loyalist Thailand was inblue, the Neutral faction was in green and the Rebel Alliance (at least theLoyalist weren't being called the Empire) was in red. For the past four hours the red sections of the map had been growing at theexpense of the blue. Worse, from this computer generated point of view, therewere a dozen tiny red pin pricks all over the place inside the Blue Zone. Thosedots were growing like a cancer, mainly because the reporters were tellingtheir media outlets where the Khanate forces were, without explaining that theyareas they had left were effectively back under Loyalist control. It looked bad, really bad, as long as everybody ignored the fact that therewasn't that much territory a hundred men could hold down. The problem was theThai authorities didn't have imbedded reporters, so they couldn't tell theirside of this battle. Because of that, it appeared to be a lopsided conflict. At ten-thirty, the level of the bizarre got deeper for the Loyalist. Accordingto one of the imbedded BBC teams, a combined forcesMechanizedTumenhadpenetrated Bangkok proper and was pushing into the city from the west. He evenshowed various Vietnamese, Khanate and Karin fighters standing around someimpressive looking vehicles. The only problem was the proportionality of number meant that column of theinvasion army was much more aLight Infantry Regimental Combat Team(RCT), not aTumenof any kind. According toMehmet, aRCTwas approximately two thousand men, depending onthe mission. ATumenwas roughly ten thousand men, so the ThaiHQ, which by now was certainly watching the BBC for their own 'Latest from theFront Line' updates, totally misunderstood the nature of the threat. This danger was further magnified by the fact that the TOE (Table ofOrganization and Equipment) of aMechanized Tumenincludedfive Zuuns (500 men) with 33 tanks each, 165 Very Modern Main Battle Tanks,plus 25 Zuuns with a total of another 600 armored vehicles. That formationdidn't have 10,000 men, had no tanks and no armor of any kind. All they hadwere a few jeeps and a lot of hutzpah. The tactic you used for fighting an armored incursion was totally differentthan what you would use to fight a guerrilla infiltration. Against tanks, youset yourself up in a built-up area so you could ambush the vehicles from theside, or from above. By the time the guerrillas penetrated that far into thecity, they had already dispersed so much that they were virtually impossible toblock. To add to the Loyalist catastrophe, the military units rushed toward thisthreat mistook the few Karin they did see to be spotters for the Khanate mobileartillery and air support, so they hunkered down and let the Karin pass throughtheir positions to be mopped up by rear area troops. That decision was based on the perception that the Karin would be acting as aunified force. Instead, the Karin fanned out over the city in small eight toten men teams and wreaked havoc with no particular aim except to make a hugeracket. Go after hard (heavily guarded/important) targets? Oh Hell no! Shoot upa patrol, or police station, sure. Just remember to run away before they couldstart shooting back. The BBC continued to help out. The broadcaster gave ten minute updates on howmuch farther he and his little band of miscreants had penetrated into the city,how close they were to the financial district and how morning shoppers weresomewhat surprised by the sudden outburst of violence in their hometown. TheBBC interviewed the 'Thai on the street' and enlightened them that their citywas about to fall to Alliance forces. There were four general reactions to this information. Some panicked and ranhome. Others headed straight for the closest grocery store/marketplace andbegan buying necessities and the third group pulled out their phones andrecorded this monumental event for posterity, some even tagging along. Afterall, how often did you have a front row seat to an invasion? The fourth group caused the most damage, unintentionally. They ran to theclosest bank, or ATM, and began drawing out as much money as they could. Thatnews spread like wildfire. Before long, the Chairman of the Krung Thai Bank,Dr. Somchai Sujjapongse, called the Minister of Finance, Apisak Tantivorawong,and informed him that there was a run on the banks. The Minister of Finance called the Prime Minister for instructions, but thatworthy was a bit too busy to deal with any bureaucrat at the moment. Left tohis own devices, Apisak Tantivorawong closed all the banks in the GreaterBangkok Metropolitan Area and asked the Chief of Police to put officers on allthe ATMs until they could be shut down. The harried Police Chief promised that he would do what he could with theforces he had at his disposal, which was not a lot. His decision made greatstrategic sense, guard the ATMs in the wealthy and middle class areas where alone officer was far less likely to be overwhelmed by protestors/enemy armedforces. When the Black Lotus agent in the police force got wind those orders, heimmediately relayed them to his superiors. It was Manna from Heaven. Thoseleaders quickly got in touch with their Karin/Khanate co-belligerents andprovided them with maps (courtesy of Mapquest and a printer) of the locationsof all the closest bank branches and ATMs, guarded by lone officers, or not atall. If they moved fast enough, they could catch the bank employees before theyleft work. Before long, the banks were back in business. The Alliance insurgents sat backand let the panic-withdrawals ensue. There simply weren't enough police left torespond to every bank 'reopening'. The Karin dutifully allowing the Thai peopleto resume their legal pillaging of the Thai financial system went viral. Beforelong, everybody was flocking to the banks and marketplaces. After all, hadn'tthey just heard on the BBC that the city was about to fall to the Rebels? Welcome to the unverified news era, where a person could babble anything and bebelieved, no matter now preposterous their assertion was. It made no logicalsense that the Loyalist could lose control of the capital, but logic had flownright out the window, to be replaced by a frantic effort to report anythingthat might be newsworthy and the desire to believe the worst was happening. Back in New York, Lady Yum-Yum clapped her hands in glee. She felt she had toexplain the implications of this to me. Until that moment, the vibrant Thaimiddle class had largely been unenthusiastic supporters of the current regime.Now the banks were closing and those people, denied their money in this time ofcrisis, got both scared and angry. It was their damn money. Hysteria took over. Would there be enough food in their cupboards to carry themthrough the unrest? If there wasn't, how were they going to pay for what theyneeded? Prices were going to be skyrocketing. Would the power be disrupted?That would mean the refrigerators would die and the food spoil. The water?Sanitation? An unfounded sense of dread gripped those people, and they suddenlybegan believing their government had let them down. Those normally sedate, polite people began flooding the streets toinadvertently make the police's and army's job a far more colossal undertaking.'No, they wouldn't go back home until the current unfortunateness passed.' Theyhad families to feed and, if the government had everything under control, whywere the banks closed? The security apparatus was in an impossible situation. They couldn't shooteverybody ~ there was no way their troops would go for that. They couldn'tarrest people who only wanted to get enough money to feed their families. And,besides, whywasthe government shutting down the banks? Howbad was it really? Were they on the wrong side of this civil war? That naggingfear crept into the minds of the junior officers on the streets. The BBC team wasn't alone in spreading disinformation and panic either. Severalnews agencies had reporters in hotels all around Bangkok ~ their version of 'inthe field' reporting included three hot meals a day, a massage and a fewnon-life-endangering attempts at investigative journalism. By eleven o'clock inthe morning, there was a whirlwind of destruction from all over the place (ifyou believed the internet). One ABC reporter stood on his eleventh story balcony and gave a blow by blowaccounting of what he perceived to be going on. (It would have been better, ifhis cameraman hadn't been hiding in corner with a mattress over himself.) Thereporter gave to the world a very wobbly perspective of events. Tens of thousands of protestors were in the streets (insert stock protestorfootage). Khanate tanks had been spotted all over the place (which were in factThai T-84 Oplots) (insert a collage of Khanate war footage and the currentsituation map). Airstrikes were going on everywhere (insert stock footage of avariety of air strikes along with the occasional actual Khanate strike inBangkok). The two-woman team fromCompl Anyway, by eleven-thirty, they had reported on a street protest broken up bypolice using tear gas and 'less-lethal' rounds. They had avoided being arrestedthere, but been rounded up four blocks over. A few minutes after that, theywere liberated by a different Thai mob and a few Khanate soldiers. Sadly,another reporter had already staked a claim to those souls, so the two womenwent off looking for another story. They found themselves in the midst of the protestors taking over the GovernmentHouse, then the military counter-offensive. This time people were gettingmangled, killed and wounded. A few seconds later death came a-calling for themilitary. They had been advancing up a wide open boulevard. Two Khanate planes(Su-24s) found them and visited some hate on those Loyalistssuceuses(herdescriptor). Ten minutes later, the viewing populace found the duo flagging down a cab andspeeding through the chaotic streets, running down a lead that the lastdemocratically elected Prime Minister of Thailand, Yingluck Shinawatra (who waseven pretty hot for a lady heading toward fifty), had been rescued/executed.Those two looked as if they were having the time of their lives. At that point in the struggle there were roughly 2,000 Alliance troops in thecity. The Loyalist had over 50,000, outnumbering the rebels by 25:1, and theywere still losing the international popularity contest. Banks running out ofmoney, marketplace stripped of foodstuffs, dozens of Karin lounging around, orhelping out the general Thai populace. When asked why, the local Karin commander smiled and, in broken Thai, stated, "Why fight anymore? The Khanate is already rounding up the band of rascalswho have ruined this country. We have already won." Some of those 'rascals' looked out their windows to be sure what that Karin wassaying on national television wasn't the truth. The reasonable reaction for those 'important people' was to call the localairbase to have a plane prepped for a quick departure and then begin toelectronically transfer money in their bank accounts to financial institutionsin Malaysia. For those adjutants, who were standing around as this was goingon, came the stark realization that they didn't have an exit plan. Someone wasgoing to have to pay for this fiasco, and the real bandits were getting theHell out of Dodge. Not good. Somewhere around noon, those men began calling the officers in the thick of theaction and warned them that there might be repercussions for shooting unarmedcivilians. What did that mean? The adjutant couldn't say, but the implicationwas clear, Human Rights was about to become an issue for the men ordering therank and file to suppress this insurgency. These officers didn't have an exitplan either. Mind you, not a single officer left his post. None of them fled the country.They grimly hung on because around two in the afternoon they were starting toget a clearer sense of what was going on and realized they should be able towin this. The enemy wasn't in strength anywhere and before long, attritionwould start being a factor and the Royal Thai Army could win that fight.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Vincent, Buffy and other family matter.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the► Podcastat Connected.
It is selfish to believe that your family willalways love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it The main front was stabilizing. The 2nd Army was in tough shape thoughall three divisions were still in the fight. The 1st Army's 2nd and 9thDivisions had corked up the advances out of Cambodia. As soon as night fell,they would maneuver the majority of the 2nd Division to crush the Allianceforces north of Bangkok. The rioters would be crushed tomorrow morning. Theywould survive. This realization came too late to them. The rot of fear had infected the 1stArmy, 1st Division and the police force commands. Of more importance, a smallgroup of secretive individuals convinced two senior Thai officers that somethinghad to be done before the city fell, or the Prime Minister reasserted controlover the city. Those two conspirators had the same problem as the Loyalists, enemy troops andprotestors in the street. Those officers had no way to contact the crucialenemy commanders, but they knew who did, the Indian Navy. Surreptitiously, theycontacted the Indian Navy's Expeditionary Fleet. The fleet's Admiral quicklyput them in touch with the Alliance Command Authority and within two hours, adeal was made.
The Great Khan wouldstop the Alliance offensive if the King of Thailand made a public appeal, nostrings attached. This new group of rebels and the Alliance worked out the paththey needed to take to reach the King so that the Alliance forces were out ofthe way and no planes, or helicopter attacked their formations. They even had aTV station that would broadcast the King's speech ending the conflict. All theyneeded was nightfall. And that was the true story of how the counter-coup was pulled off, how the Kingof Thailand was able to talk to the Great Khan and how the Thai government wasoverthrown. In the final analysis, the Loyalist hadn't fallen before the mightof the Alliance. They were done in by a tiny number of Black Lotus operativealmost no one knew existed, with a small amount of assistance from JIKIT. "No wonder the Seven Pillars has never been able to wipe out theseguys," Addison yawned. "They are slippery as eels and thrice aslethal. I am glad they are on our side." Several sets of eyes looked ather skeptically. "I mean, I am glad we are currently working toward thesame goals." Thus, "I suggest we all get some sleep," Addison declared as she stoodup and stretched. Odette was comfortably asleep, so I curled her up and carried her to the elevator.I wanted to go home and forget that I had lost any semblance of a normal life.I didn't know what was worse; me doing the shit I was doing, or meunderstanding what I was doing. Juanita had gone down ahead of us to pull thecar around to the front. Chaz, Pamela, Odette and I went down in the first wave of the exodus from theworkplace. The door opened on the ground floor. I wasn't the first person tonotice her. My reflexes had improved to the point I had a moment to recognizeher before the people around me sprang into action. Pamela side-stepped to the right, pistol mystically appearing in her two-handgrip. Chaz, Chaz bore Odette and me to the ground. His level of dedicationastonished me. He was shielding us with his body. From what, I hadn't been ableto determine. "Deadman switch," one of my aunts stated. "I want to talk withCáel." The voice had a stressed tenor to it. "Back outside," Pamela simmered. "No." "Chaz, what is going on?" I asked him. He hadn't moved and wasn'tletting me wiggle around to see. "Explosive vest," he responded coolly. That's right. Chaz wasshielding Odette and me with his body. That is what I found astonishing, his desire to give his life for me. Hisexpectation that Pamela could kill the threat while he was currently occupiedwas understandable. "We seem to be at an impasse," Pamela edged further away. She wasn't avoiding the blast radius. That was impossible in this lobby. No, ifit came to firing, she was making it easier for Chaz to get a shot off since theshooter couldn't cover both angles of attack. "Let me talk to him," my aunt insisted. This made no sense. "Chaz, let me deal with this," I told my bodyguard. "Are you sure?" he questioned. "Not really. As Pamela said, she's not going to let any of us leave untilshe talks to me and if you kill her, she kills all of you." Chaz let mestand. Odette was just awakening to the threat. Chaz rose to stand by my side. (Sadly,Odette didn't rate him dying for her.) I prayed I didn't fuck this up. "Cáel, is that really you?" the women with green eyes and red hairasked me. She sounded desperate, which would explain the suicide vest. "Yeah, which one are, Mom?"
{9:10 pm, Tuesday,September 2nd ~ 6 Days to go} "Yes, I'm Sibeal. Are you my son?" "Do you mean "Do you miss your Father?" she queried. "Yes," I murmured. "Ahh Cáel, you are still my son. Thank all that is divine," shesighed. "Care to deactivate the vest now?" Pamela suggested. "Do you promise not to shoot me? You two, and the one sneaking up on mefrom behind." She meant Juanita, who had sensed the danger and exited thecar. "You are three kinds of crazy, so I'm not making any guarantees,"Pamela answered. "Pamela "No guarantees," Chaz affirmed. "She's his mother," Odette chimed in. "If it was anyone else,they would be in a cloud of bodyguards, not alone." "Here is the deal, Mom. You deactivate the vest, then we will talk.Otherwise, I'm taking my security's advice and backing the fuck out ofhere." "Okay," she nodded. "It's a fake. I'm upset, but not enough tobe suicidal. I wanted to see what you would do. Father would have sacrificedeveryone else. You got tackled and you obeyed the man who was trying to saveyour life." "Chaz, what do you think?" Pamela asked him. "We could hold her here until Virginia shows up. That would give Cáel afew minutes to reminisce before she gets dragged off to the looney bin."(That would, of course, lead to her death while in Federal custody "I concur," Pamela agreed. She still had her gun out and aimed. Shewent to a one-handed grip so she could motion Juanita to come inside. I took the opportunity to walk around Chaz, though I only advanced half way. "I think it is asking too much from my bodyguards to walk up to you withthat vest lying at your feet," I pointed. "You know "I'm on a timetable," Mom murmured into my shoulder. "You knowwhy." "I am afraid I do," (my pheromones were already affecting her)."What brought this on? How long can you stay?" "The kidnapping made it imperative. But this has been my first opportunityto get close enough to you to determine if my father had won, or not," sheconfessed. "I'm not sure how long I can remain ~ maybe a day, or three. I have heardyou have an upcoming ordeal you must go through for your Amazons." Odetteagain by way of Delilah. I decided to give Delilah the benefit of the doubt andjust accept that she did what she did because she was worried about me. "Oh. Mom, this is Odette Sievert, my roommate and all-around better friendthan I deserve." Odette extended her hand. Mom reached past me and shookit. "Nice to finally meet you in person," Mom smiled. "Nice to realize you aren't as nutty as the rest of the bunch,andconsidering you came at Pamela and Chaz with a fake suicide vest "My son is all I have left of Ferko (my dad)," she grew grim."If my father stole him after killing my husband "Aaahh," Odette stammered through this tense family moment. "Youare about to be a grandmother in a serious way," she tried to turn thingsaround. "How does a dozen grandkids sound?" Operational security and secret information were concepts Odette was aware of.She simply refused to use either one. "Really?" Mom looked from Odette to me. "How serious?" "How about we get out of here before the FBI shows up," I begandirecting my mom out the doors. "Cáel?" Chaz questioned. "Hey now, I never agreed to hand my mom over to Virginia. The vest wasfake. Let's not dwell on this," I urged Mom and Odette out the door. "Ishara," Juanita repeatedly prayed, "why do you test meso?" Chaz and Pamela showed their faith in me and my decision-making ability bytagging along. For me, what does a son who hasn't spent any time with hismother since he was seven (because she was supposedly dead for the past fifteenyears) ask first? Actually, we waited for Chaz, who had the presence of mind to ensure the vestwas truly a dud and then called Virginia so she could clean up one of my messes "Thank you, Color Sergeant," Mom looked toward Chaz as the GL 550pulled away from One Mi Ma1 Tower. Unfortunately, the look he sent her waywasn't friendly. "Thanks for reminding me," I nodded to Mom. "Chaz, what in theHell possessed you to jump on Odette and me? I appreciate it," "Me too," Odette chimed in. "But please don't do that ever again. Of all the, let's just say I havetoo many deaths of people I like on my mind. I don't want you added to thatlist." "Tough." "Well, thanks for considering my request," I groaned. "Chaz, three nights ago our boy learned that one of the women he knockedup is going to die and no one will intervene to save her life and they won'ttell him where she is," Pamela let him know. "Who do we talk to?" he asked me. By 'talk' I assumed he meant tortureuntil they coughed up a viable location/suspect. "The Goddess Ishara." "Fuck. I apologize, Cáel. That is hard news for a young man like you totake. As for my jumping on you "Juanita," Pamela called out. "Stop driving to Havenstone. Takeus back to Cáel’s place. He won't let the Amazons take his mother, which meansI won't let them, which means Chaz won't let them. Besides, Odette could getkilled in the cross-fire and too many people like her for that to be safe forany would-be assassin." "Really?" Odette perked up. Of course she wasn't worried about beingkilled. Odette was fascinated that people found her valuable "Pamela, would you miss me if I got killed?" Odette turned to themost dangerous person in the car. (I didn't think Mom was in her league, butthen I had never seen her fight, so I was keeping an open mind.) "You bet your ass, Baby-cakes," she grinned at my super-kindsidekick. "Me too," Chaz added gruffly. "Of greater importance, Addisonwould take umbrage. Next to Ms. Love, she's the nastiest bitch I've evermet." He meant that as a compliment. "Not Lady Yum "She doesn't take things personally. She'd miss Odette, but not enough tomove off-mission," Chaz explained. "Let's not forget Buffy," Pamela snorted. "What she lacks inexperience she makes up for by being totally psychotic and fanatically loyal toWakko here. People who piss him off tend to end up as a place holder on theObituary page." "Unless they never find the bodies," Juanita commented "Cáel, I am so happy I met you," Odette hugged my arm. "My lifewas going nowhere before you gave me your phone number. Now, I know my life isat risk and I don't care. Being with you has been more wonderful than I everthought possible." Mom was studying me, both pleased and worried. "What?" I asked. "You have a lot of your grandfather in you. He did have a gift forinspiring the best out of people. You are like your father in that you care forthose people "Dad was like Grandpa?" I worried. "Hell no." That was Pamela. "Thank the Divine, no," Mom exhaled at the same time. "How doyou know my father?" "I killed him," Pamela grinned. "You were the one? I'm, I don't know what to think," Mom murmured. "Keep that in mind before you try to pull another stunt like you didtonight," Pamela's grin grew feral. "Pamela is the best Grandmother I could ever hope for," I explained. "Spiritually speaking," Odette tried to lighten the mood (she was acracker-jack morale officer). "Otherwise it would make Cáel’s having sexwith her granddaughters rather, suspect." "Odette, you can say 'incestuous'," Mom gave a half-grin. "Doyou know much about my family?" "Your Pa created you and your sisters to be fuck-toys who also ran errandsfor him," Odette nodded. "They are all loonies." "Don't share that view with them," Mom cautioned. "When we lastmet, they had a highly under-developed sense of humor and a well-cultivatedmean streak." "Gotcha," Odette giggled. "After dealing with the Slayers ofTesticles numbers 1 & 2, I have learned what kind of wacky girls Cáelattracts without even trying." "I really should make sure Mr. Fiennes is okay," I reminded myself. "You would do better catching up with that girl down the hall. The Koreantakeout girl also asked about you", offered Odette. Yeah, the girl in 3-Fbaked me some cookies when Dad was murdered. "How many grandchildren are we talking about?" Mom looked at me withsome serious maternal affection. "Who are the Slayers of Testicles?" Juanita wanted to know. My familyjewels belonged to House Ishara "Oneida's bodyguards," Odette let slip out before she saw the warninglook in my eyes. "You are sleeping with the apprentice of House Arinniti?" gaspedJuanita "I'd better not bring up Rhada," Odette nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to spank you," I growled at Odette. "Was that aimed at me?" Juanita. "Yippee, and we are going home now, too!" Odette squealed. "Not you, Juanita "You promised to punish me!" she beamed brightly. "Punish me!Punish me!" "Uuuuuuu," I beat my cranium against the headrest in front of me. "I thought she was the 'nice' girl," Mom chided me. "She was," Pamela smirked. "Unfortunately, she's been totallycorrupted by your son." "Yep," Odette agreed. "He's opened up a whole new horizon ofthings sexual for me." "Son, how many women are you seeing? I thought you were engaged."Mom. "Uuuuuuu," I repeated. "I'll take care of this," Chaz intervened calmly. "He is asloyal as he can be "She'll be back," Pamela assured Mom. "They always come back atleast once." "Who has only come back just once?" Chaz laconically questionedPamela. "Good point," Pamela acceded. "They keep coming back until hechanges the locks, his phone number and address." That made no sense, "I am glad you two are my friends," I groused. "I'd hate tothink what you would say about me if you hated me." "You're welcome," Pamela grinned. "Ms. Marla Chalmers," Chaz continued without missing a beat,"Libra's younger sibling, who your son indubitably impressed while incollege; three teachers at an exclusive school, he met them while body-guardinga group of children; an assistant manager of a hotel he stayed at; sixattractive, college-educated European young women," "Don't forget the Macedonian!" Pamela interjected. "I have removed her from the list because she has no reliable way to huntdown our boy," he explained. "Good point," Pamela nodded. "They like busting your chops, don't they?" Mom smiled. "As opposed to physically busting my chops "You have matured nicely. Your father would be very pleased "Thank you Mom." She knew the man better than I ever would. "We won't count the 189 Amazons who have staked a claim to him for thenext nine days," Chaz added. "What! 189? When did that happen?" "The thirty huntresses and the 159 members of House Ishara," Pamelaclued me in. "159? When did that happen?" I gasped again. I was repeating myself "They are the best of the roughly 20,000 Runners in the Host and thus, allare serious bad-ass bitches," Pamela assured me. "I think Helenawould like you to explore a few more heroic Runners who have sincepassed." "Passed?" Mom. "Cáel sees dead people," Odette beamed. "So does his Aunt Baibre," Mom said. "Met her, came off a bit, off," I confirmed. "That's Baibre. What other ones have you met, besides Deidre andBrianna?" She was asking if I had met others outside of Delilah's watchful eye. "Hmm, Imogen, Kelly and Matilda." "Okay. You haven't met the bad ones yet," Mom nodded. I was stunnedyet again. Not by what Mom said, but by, "The 'bad ones'?" Pamela inquired. "They come in shades worsethan Kelly and Matilda?" "I'm with you on that. Those two were unsettling," Chaz agreed. HolyShit! Pamela and Chaz were agreeing that two of my aunts had them worried on atactical level. So 'not good' for me, since I couldn't take either of myfriends. Bad-bad. "Fiona is the worst. She is the second youngest of my generation and byfar the most lethal. She was Father's pet." "Oh joy," I sighed. "Is she bulletproof?" Chaz inquired. "Not quite, but she is definitely hard to kill. She has a greater share ofAlal while remaining sane." "Oh, she's the sane one?" Juanita joined in. "On that side of his family, sane is a relative term." Thanks,Odette. "Relative to how far your cock is into them?" Pamela snorted. "Hold on now," I interrupted the jocularity. "What do you mean Pamela's phone rang. "Father created three generations of daughters and sons. Carrig was the'success' on the male side of the equation." Uncle Lumpy was the 'success'? What had the other uncles been like "He destroyed all the rest." "Please clarify," Chaz studied my mother. "Your father murderedhis own children?" "Yes. All but one of the 36 sons. He kept Carrig around as a reminder tonot create any more sons. The first generation of daughters were all'failures'." "You mean dead?" Odette gulped. "Yes "Consider Grandad's low opinion of humanity, that's extra tragic," Iput an arm around Odette. Pamela was muffling her conversation. "Of the second generation of daughters, only Aunt Faoiltiama was keptaround. I always had the impression her soul wasn't entirely human. She israther primitive and predatory. A less horrifically unbalanced Carrig "Wow, I don't know what to think of that," I mumbled. "Of my generation, eleven of us were allowed to live. Kelly and Maitildaare the most physically dangerous. That was their purpose "Trained in combat styles by Cáel’s grandfather?" Chaz looked,depressed. "Yes. The four of us were. Fiona was the only one I couldn't best." "I would like to spar with you when it is convenient," Chazrequested. "Okay. You deserve to know how bad it can be," she nodded. "Ofthe rest, Una was the youngest, the most human and humane. She was Father'sfinal failure. I was never sure why he kept her alive." "For Cáel to rescue, of course," Odette insisted. Crap. She wasright. By the horrified look on my Mother's face, she knew Odette was correctas well. Alal had let Una live as a contingency card, in case I was a soft-hearted sap.In hindsight, it was obvious. The innocent damsel trapped in a madhouse, at themercy of her fiendish kinfolk, she was a perfect weapon to make me do stupidershit than normal. "Damn," Mom muttered. "Anyway, Briana is the most willful and thefamily's representative to the Illuminati. Deidre is the most sedate, so shehandles the normal business interests that we are allowed to know about. Darciehad Alal's hunger for lost and forbidden lore. In her case, it isall-consuming. She has memorized much of Father's collection." "She is rather good at it too "Sadhbba: she is Father's spy master; with the exceptionally eerie talentsof subterfuge, deceit and finding the weakness in others. She and I did not getalong. Fiona could do it all, except for my talent." "Which is?" Chaz took over, since Pamela was waving me over for aclose, quiet chat concerning her phone call. "Fiona was an updated version of me. She was slightly better at everythingI could do, except for one thing. I had Father's sixth sense about things.Fiona did not, and that was the reason she hated me so much. Father stoked ourinternal conflicts to keep us all on edge." "Good to know," Chaz understated his concern. "Do you have anyintelligence on how, when and with what your father will come after our boy?"I wasn't insulted by the 'our boy' moniker. He wasn't calling me a child. Hewas telling Mom that I was 'one of the boys' "Problem for you to deal with," Pamela handed me the phone. "Itis Tabitha Loire." Tabitha? Vincent's "Hello? Who is this?" the weary, angry voice on the other end of theconnection spoke. "Cáel Nyilas. Tabitha Loire, what can I do for you?" "What can you tell me about my Father?" "Oh God! He is not dead, is he?" I grunted. Pause. "No. No, Da is okay. He was released from the hospital a week ago. I wouldlike to talk to you about what happened to him overseas." "He won't tell you?" "No. Neither will his boss, or any of his acquaintances. Mr. Nyilas, he isdown in the dumps and I want to know what I can do to help out. If you are hisfriend, you should help." I couldn't blame her for being both bitter and exasperated. She had run fulltilt into the Great Wall of National Security and been stopped cold. "How about I come down and talk to you?" I offered. "What I cantell you shouldn't go out over a phone and I have been remiss in not catchingup with your father sooner." "Umm, when?" "I'll take the next train down tonight," I decided. "We'llarrange some vehicles at the station. What is your address?" Shehesitated. After all, she had Pamela's number, not mine and I was tied into herfather being shot
"Train?"Juanita griped. Chaz pulled out his phone and called Agent-86 for both the nexttrain from Penn Station to Alexandria and an update to Virginia and theHomeland Security people for clearance to bring along our ironmongery. Pamelalooked at me with pride. So did Mom. Whatever Juanita's opinion of me was, itwas concealed by her call to someone else probably updating Buffy on my itinerary. "Vincent was the Federal Agent who was wounded at Miercurea Ciuc?"asked Mom. "I need to have a talk with Delilah," Pamela glowered. "I want to be in the room when you do," Chaz agreed. "Juanita Was it? I had no idea, but Alal apparently did. I had been to Penn Stationthree times; and I never had a vehicle that needed a parking space. All threetimes, Havenstone sent a car to pick me up. That was for my preliminary andfinal interviews, plus handling all the paperwork after I got the job. I'd left Bolingbrook in a U-Haul truck (without much in it) a week beforestarting work. I had an iron-clad belief I could find a place to live withinthat time span. That was all the time and money I had allotted to thatendeavor. My budget had been tight, or so I believed. Unlike the other four chuckleheads who joined the New Directive, I hadn't receiveda signing bonus. Maybe I should have asked for one. Too late for that now. "You taking your mother to meet Vincent?" Odette poked me. I lookedfrom Pamela to Odette then back again. Sneaky-ass bitches. Theywereintroducing my widowed Mother toa really nice, mature guy who was brave, a good father, a widower andall-around stand-up guy. He had a ready-made family, an oldest daughter my age.Beyond some physical similarities, Vincent was not much like Dad. Dad was aquiet, private man. By the nature of his job as a Field Agent, Vincent had to possess superiorcommunication skills. Physically, they were nearly the same height, but Dad wasbroader in the shoulders. On the other hand, Vincent had both a warrior'sspirit and the skills to back it up. But why Mom? Her life was more a disaster than mine, and mine was colossallyfucked up. "Don't get any ideas," Pamela put out there. Was she talking to me?"Chaz and I don't like you. Your father is a rat-bastard with a mind likea snake. We have no idea if you are yet another one his plots to get atCáel." They were still taking her with us as we went to see Vincent in Virginia. Sincethis was going to be a quick trip Waiting there was my old buddy and now sister, Wilma Draper/Ishara. I was at aloss why. It wasn't as if I needed more firepower than Juanita, Chaz and Pamelain the confined environment of a train. "Wilma?" "Hello Ish "What are you doing here?" "Oh... Buffy told me that I was to be here on assignment to fulfill anIsharan obligation." This would be Wilma's first mission for House Ishara,no matter how brief and danger-free it might be. She was ecstatic. Huh? I couldn't recall any obligation I owed Buffy, or Vincent. Unlike everyother Amazon House, things regularly happened without the Head of House'sknowledge. Face facts: I was the least prepared leader the Host had ever had. Icompensated by having hyper-competent underlings "Ah," Pamela nodded, sensing my loss of understanding, "Apromise to provide Vincent a bodyguard was made in your presence. Being thehighest ranking member of the Host present, and failing to pass on thatknowledge, it falls to your House to answer that pledge." "Wilma, you are here to be Vincent Loire's bodyguard?" "Only temporarily. The current state of affairs at HQ won't allow me totake more than three days leave. Your 'First' is seeking another appropriateIsharan for the task." I had totally dropped the ball. The initiative to bring JIKIT and the Amazons together was my creation. Katrinahad approved it, yet it was my status asChief Diplomat of the Host(asI had redefined that role,) that was responsible for that group, and thusVincent. There was also another undercurrent to providing Vincent an Amazonbodyguard. I would be sending Vincent the message that he was still a valuablemember of the team. His infirmity was simply a temporary difficulty. I gave Javiera a call. I suddenly needed to know Vincent's status with the FBI.A little past Philadelphia, she called back. Vincent was on long-term leaveand, barring a positive physical assessment, he would never be going back intothe field. They were making him a desk jockey for the rest of his career. Thatwould be a heavy enough blow to the man to put him in the dumps. I made my view clear. As Unpaid Honcho Assigned to Unit L & U HAUL, Iwanted Vincent on my team "Pamela," Chaz turned to Pamela, "I am proud to call him'brother'." "I think he is coming along nicely, Grandson Charles," Pamelapreened. Wha- huh? My family had grown yet again. Grown yet again with peoplewho were better than me. "Does that make Aya your niece?" a sleepy Odette smiled. "I guess it does," he nodded. "Aya will love you," Pamela smiled. "I hope Caitlyn loves him too," I smirked. "A man could do worse than marrying an Amazon," Chaz blithelyretorted. Less I forget, the Tomorrow Clan had its own long warrior tradition. "Asking it to be three thousand years long is a bit too much," Pamelaagreed with what I had not spoken aloud. "On the plus side," I began. "He's also getting several frisky sisters-in-law," Pamela finished.Hi-Five. "Super Twin Powers Activate!" we proclaimed loudly. Fuck Ishara for taking Tad "When I grow up, I want to be just like you," Odette yawned. Whichone of us she wanted to emulate wasn't clear. {Wounded, but not forgotten} {2:00 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go} The tickets were one-way. Katrina was having a private jet come down at 4 a.m.to fetch me. We arrived in DC at 1:30. Two bleary-eyed State Departmentflunkies met us with an S U V and a sedan. We took the S U V ~ we had sevenpeople ~ while they drove the sedan back so they could try to make something ofthe night that duty had destroyed. They looked curious about what this was all about and were a bit disappointedthat no explanation was forthcoming from our crowd. We were polite, and Ithanked them for their service. Being a decent human being doesn't cost youmuch and can pay serious dividends. The drive to Casa de Loire took thirty minutes. Juanita informed me the smallairport I would be flying out of was a twenty minute drive, so I had roughly anhour and half with Vincent and his family. When we arrived, Juanita sent Wilmato make a 'walk-around' Vincent's home so she could get the lay of the land aswell as keep an eye out for voyeurs. Pamela saved another series of frowns from Juanita by being the first person tothe door. Tabitha had called her after all. Tabitha, Vincent's oldest and aGeorgetown University senior, clearly didn't know what to make of us, and weweren't making it any easier for her by showing up on her stoop three hoursafter she had called Pamela. It wasn't going to get better. For starters, Juanita (and the not visibleWilma) had a MP-7A1. Ya know "Hello. May I help you?" That wasn't her being uninformed about ourimminent arrival. This was the child of an FBI agent allowing a stranger at herdoor to identify themselves instead of giving them a name to use. "I'm Pamela Pile," my mentor answered. "This is Cáel Nyilas, mygrandson. The gentleman to his left is my other grandson, Color Sergeant ChazTomorrow of the British military. To the left is Juanita Garza, my youngergrandson's bodyguard "You are heavily armed. Is my Da in trouble?" "I want to talk to your father, if that is okay with you. I'll let Cáelanswer your questions. He's our titular boss." 'Thanks Pamela', I groaned inwardly. She was cute, exhausted and emotionally-vulnerable. Eager for answers and forsomeone to make sense of a world where her anchor As we entered, it was obvious that Gretchen and her younger sister, Mariyah,had camped out in the front living room, catching some 'z's' on a recliner anda sofa with light blankets for covers. Mariyah was on the sofa, sitting up onher elbows and struggling to wake up. As Chaz shut the front door, Tabitha came down the stairs. "Mr. Nyilas," she greeted me. Well, I was an infamous celebrity. Ieven had two Facebook pages (Nyilas Nailed Me!andAz "Ms. Loire," I met her halfway and shook her hand. "Call me Tabitha." "Call me Cabbage-Head," I grinned. That caught her off guard. "Oh, kay, not what I expected." (I get that a lot) "Weneed to talk," she failed to stifle a grin. "If you sleep with any of these girls, I will shoot you," Pamelawarned me in Hittite. "Excuse me?" Tabitha looked her way. "Don't worry about it, Tabitha," Pamela gave her a congenial look."I simply warned the boy that if he acted inappropriately, I would scarhim." "Aren't you engaged?" she turned on me. "Yes. Yes I am. Hana is a wonderful woman; beautiful, smart, with a bigheart and a serious nature. Sadly for her, I'm a lousy human being,untrustworthy cad and perpetually prone to making bad decisions where women areconcerned. Very bad decisions." "Miss, since my associate appears to be eminently capable of mangling theEnglish language, let me help you clarify the situation: Cáel can't say 'no'where a woman is concerned. He can't even say, 'no, please don't hurt me', or'no, not now. I'm talking to my date'." "Hi. I'm Odette. There are four sane people in this room and I'm one ofthem." "Says the woman who snuck aboard a transatlantic fight and hid in a placein the galley which you couldn't get out of," Pamela snorted. "I got to go to Europe for free," she defiantly perked up. "Oh,and ladies," to the Lorie girls, "your father is a wonderful andbrave male. (OK, too much time around the Amazons for her.) "He saved mylife in Budapest." "He was in Budapest?" Gretchen. "When?" Tabitha. "Why?" Mariyah. "We need to talk to Vincent "That's not helpful," Tabitha frowned. "I'll let you go up without me," Juanita grimaced. "I will be upafter I finish duct taping Odette to the inside of the refrigerator door." "What?" Odette squeaked. "What did I do?" "You talked about something you shouldn't have talked about and I'm notabout to let three daughters of an FBI agent interrogate you." "What kind of Federal task force are you?" Gretchen wondered. "Miss, we are an international situations study group," Chaz's liehad risen to Cáel-caliber. "Who walk around the suburbs with PDW's?" Gretchen arched an eyebrow. "Who drop what they are doing in New York City and race down to ArlingtonVirginia to visit our Father in the middle of the night?" Mariyah added. "Who are led by a 22-year old man engaged to a billionaire heiress?"Tabitha finished annihilating Chaz's fib. "I'm praying to Dot Ishara that Vincent lets us talk about this," Iturned to Pamela. "I'm nearly out of game." "Who is Dot Ishara?" Tabitha. "My matron Goddess. I'm a pantheist. Can you take me to your fathernow?" She hesitated. Her dad was in bad shape, inside and out. She had let us show upso she could get answers. Me showing up and having urgent business with himwasn't in her game plan. Her dad had to be looking like death warmed over. "Come on," she led the way back upstairs. "Pamela, Mom," I said. Pamela was coming along because she wanted totouch base with Vincent. Stopping her wasn't an option. Mom was coming alongbecause I wanted to give her an idea what I was doing now. I was only givingVincent information about what had happened, not future plans. In my own way, Iwas seeking my Mother's approval. Chaz was coming along to keep an eye on Mom. "Da, Mr. Nyilas and some of his people have stopped by." Vincent looked bad. Most of it was cosmetic. A combination of Alal knowledge,my memories of his wounds and an understanding of how good American medicalskill could be (for the right money) told me a different story. He had a face wound, which always looked worse than it was. His ear was swollenand an angry red color. I guessed that was a minor infection post-surgery. Hisleft eye socket was a mixture of purple, yellow with the tell-tale puckeredline indicating surgery a week ago. His eyes worked just fine. Vincent's shoulder was in a cast, arm in a sling and his left leg was in agel-like cast, with a brace attached, to make sure the shattered bones reknitproperly. He also had to be in a shit-load of pain because he tracked the fourof us easily, which was a clear sign that he wasn't on the prescribed dose ofpain-killers. "Cáel "I am Sibeal Nyilas. Cáel is my Son," she informed him in a pleasanttone. "Ah. Nice to meet you. I had heard you were dead. Cáel, how are thingsgoing back at the asylum?" "Vincent, we need some alone time. I need to brief you." "I'm off the team," Vincent stated with grim acceptance. He knew theverdict of the FBI office: he was riding a desk the rest of his career. "The only way you get off Unit L is if you die, or betray us. You can'tget rid of us that fast, old man," I grinned. "What does Javiera say?" "She is 100% onboard. If we let you go, we'd have to bring someone elseinto the insane mess we call day-to-day life. Sheismercifulin that way." "Hmm," he grunted. Vincent wasn't by-the-book. He was a flexible, diligent lawman. He also loved fieldwork, dealing with the information first hand and making the arrests. Hewouldn't be arresting anyone while working on my team. But two out of threewasn't bad. "Tabitha, I need some time alone with these people." "Da, I didn't bring Ms. Pile and Mr. Nyilas here so they could put youback in the field," Tabitha grew defiant. "Tabitha, I'm months away from field work. I'm still a member of JIKIT, ifin a different unit for the time being. They need me." "Need you? Da, you can barely walk to the bathroom," she protested. "Tabitha "We need experienced law enforcement personnel to provide our missionsperspective on the legal repercussions of our actions. I won't lie to you. Whenyou father is ready, he is back in the front lines, along with the rest of mypeople, me included." "You nearly got him killed." Time for me to play the hard-ass. "No. I've seen plenty of dead people. Your father was badly wounded, butwas never in danger of dying. One of my bodyguards made sure of that. She gaveher life to defend him when he was down. She wasn't protecting an old man. Shewas fighting for a valued member of the team." "Died?" Tabitha was close to tears. I'd let Vincent handle this one.He had to deal with this in his own way as well as explain it to his oldestchild. "Yes. Her name was Charlotte and she was a professional soldier ~ SpecialForces," he told her. "When my shotgun was empty and I was reaching for my pistol, an enemyjumped me. Charlotte killed him then knelt over my body while firing at othermen who were trying to kill us both. I saw her fall down. She was shot in theface and dead instantly. Honey, I wasn't fighting alone. I had various combatexperts, included some elite Romanian troops, with me. "Those people tortured and murdered women and children. They had to bestopped and I am an armed law enforcement officer. This is what I do, what Ihave trained for and I would do it again if the situation warranted." "I don't want you to die," she did cry this time. "I understand," Vincent responded. "Me too," Pamela grinned (not wanting Vincent to die). "Me three," I added. Tabitha looked to Mom. "I am not on their team. I'm here to reconnect with my son, who I haven'tseen in fifteen years," Mom explained. "If my son thinks well of yourfather, that is a good sign to me that he is surrounding himself with top shelfpeople." "I think my Father has risked his life enough," she persisted. "Your father is one of the best men in his profession and I need thebest," I explained. "The back-up FBI agent is good, but she's underthirty and still has a lot to learn. I know you love him deeply, but we needhim." "You need him so much it took me calling Ms. Pile here," "Call me Pamela," my mentor interjected. "Okay "I have a critical assignment in five days. I won't be back until a weekfrom next Monday. I am dealing with this issue alone "He's in the FBI. Do you think his life is in danger?" "If our enemies figure out 'he' is still with JIKIT, then 'yes',"Pamela replied. "Cáel is leaving one of his associates, named Wilma, herefor a few days until he can send someone more appropriate for the task "Da, quit this. We can't afford to," What Tabitha was trying to saywas that after losing her mother three years ago, she didn't want to go throughlife without her father too. "Tabitha, if I didn't think I could do a good job with JIKIT, I wouldrefuse Mr. Nyilas' offer. I am a field agent. Unit L is a field unit that hasto digest information on the run and react with clarity of purpose." "Now Baby, I am not going out with Cáel’s people until I am judged to bephysically fit. If I make a full recovery, in the field with these people iswhere I need to be. We are trying to shut down a well-financed, well-connectedterrorist organization which has penetrated several intelligenceagencies."
"I need to help myteam ferret them out. It is dangerous work and I would be a hypocrite if I sentsomeone less skilled to take my place. Do we understand one another?" Translation, Tabitha was the 'woman of the house' since her mother had died inthat medical malpractice incident. It was going to be up to her to answer hersiblings' questions. "Alright," Tabitha relented. "I'll leave you to it." No,she was not 'alright' with this. She was preparing for the next round ofconvincing her father that this wasn't safe for a man in his condition. It wasa standard girl thing. Been there Tabitha left, and Pamela swept the room, looking for any listening devices, orother surveillance access points to the room. She even pulled the battery outof Vincent's phone. Then came the briefing. Mostly I went over the most recentactivities in Thailand. He nodded, mulled over what I was giving him. "This would be a good time to make some solid law enforcement contactsthere. Thailand has a corruption problem. We could gather some reliable typesto create a secret anti-corruption task force with the Black Lotus helping out.It would operate as a public information source ~ unnamed officials tipping offlocal news outlets to a scandal with a sheaf of evidence to back it up." Wow. No one on the team had thought of that, and we should have. Sure, we weregiving the Black Lotus an unsolicited helping hand, but it would be worth it.By the look on Vincent's face, a quick recovery was in the offing. He hadrenewed his faith in himself as an active participant in the Secret War. This wasn't a pity visit. It was the real thing. Now he had to get back to NewYork City as quickly as possible. We needed him. He had hoped we did He carried that guilt. With our visit, he could begin to forgive himself forCharlotte's sacrifice. Her death wouldn't be in vain. There was work to do "Thanks Cáel," he nodded as we made ready to leave. "We work with what he have," I reminded him. "Some bright guytold me that once. We carry on because we have to." "I couldn't agree more. So, is my bodyguard any good?" He hadn'tforgotten I had told him he was getting a bodyguard. "You might remember Wilma Draper from your first visit to Havenstone. Sheis with House Ishara now and will be handling your security for three, or fourdays, until Buffy can bring up to speed someone tailor made for the job." "Good. I'll find a way to explain this to my daughters. Oh, and behaveyourself." "Yes sir," Pamela answered for me. "I'm on it." "Thank you too, Pamela. It is good to see you, Sergeant Tomorrow. It wasnice to meet you, Mrs. Nyilas. I think I've had enough excitement for onenight." Vincent was weary. His body still needed time to recover. He wouldget better and I would definitely be seeing more of him. Down stairs we went, right into Wilma. "What is that?" I motioned to her choice of handgun. "A Taurus Raging Judge Magnum." "What does it shoot?" Chaz mused. "454 Casull." "Holy Hell! What do you," I was at a loss for words. "If I hit someone, I want to make sure they go down," Wilma soundedsomewhat embarrassed. "That will definitely do the job." Chaz. "What do you think is going to attack you?" Juanita inquired. "A water buffalo," Chaz. "Or a 747." Pamela was less than helpful. "Cut it out guys," I declared. "It could be worse. She could bepacking .480 Ruger." Wilma looked self-conscious. "Wilma, what is your back-up piece?" "An H&KP30." "And?" Pamela smirked. "A Ruger Bowen .500 Maximum." "I didn't know they made handgun bullets that big." I gulped. "If we are ever attacked by a Stryker," Chaz grinned. "Or a BMP," Pamela added. "We know who to turn to," Chaz finished. They were joking, though Ididn't know that at the time. "Cut her some slack," Odette protested, "at least she comesprepared." "You are right, Odette," Pamela nodded. "The .50 is a bulletwith a long and storied history. In World War 2, they used them as anti-tankrounds." "But only at the start of the war," Chaz corrected her. "Wilma, thank you for your preparedness. You are accurate, right?" Ifshe wasn't, OH God, I thought. The collateral damage she could cause. "Very." "It also makes the garden variety 'taking cover' rather ineffectual,"Pamela conceded. "I'm now curious how far through an earthen berm it can penetrate,"Chaz looked to Pamela. "You two At that point, I was so happy that I had never given into my baser impulses andgiven Wilma a hard time at the security desk. I would have felt really badabout her killing that person across the street, sitting safely in theirarmored car, after it punched through me and the 50 mm of bullet-resistantglass that passed for transparent walls at Havenstone. "Mr. Nyilas," Tabitha closed in. She wasn't happy with me one bit.Her sisters mirrored her displeasure. "Why don't we step outside into your backyard?" I suggested. Juanitashot me a nasty look. Pamela took Wilma on a tour of the house. Chaz went tofeed his late night case of the munchies. Odette stuck with him, undoubtedlystill avoided Juanita. "This is not why I brought you here," Tabitha got feisty once Mariyahclosed the sliding glass door. The late summer crickets were doing their matingthing. "You were supposed to help us understand Da, not drag him off to get shotup again," Gretchen added. Ah, girls and lying to themselves. "Really?" I took them all in. "You called Pamela, Tabitha. Sheprobably consulted the rest of you. What did you think I was going to do?" "Tell us what happened to him and how we could help him heal and get overhis funk," Mariyah tagged in. "Bullshit," I cut off the next comment I had lucked out with Tabitha. She did live close to Georgetown Universitycampus. Picking off the other two was easier. "What do you think your father is going to do when the last of you aregone, carrying on with your own lives? From the short time I have knownVincent, I know he would never stop any of you from pursuing whatever careersyou desire." "You barely know him at all," Tabitha declared. "Think what you will," I countered. "I came here because youwanted my help and the only thing that would help your father is for him toknow, with certainty, that he had a job to do, a place where he was needed andpeople counting on him to come back and carry on." "Lie to yourselves if it makes you feel better. I am not lying. I "It is the nature of your father's new job with JIKIT. He is our seniorlawman in a group of professional killers, spooks and diplomats. His expertiseis critical. He knows that now. I wouldn't bullshit him because lives are onthe line. Heisthe best person for the job." "And you three know that. You know how good your father is at his job "Until two months ago, I thought my mother died when I was seven. I haveto deal with the crazy crap of her not being dead and the reason she had to gointo hiding and leave me and my father behind. Now, if you honestly believethat your father is not the best man for the job, let's go upstairs and tellhim "But he's going to die," Mariyah choked up. "Take a look at the crowd I run with," I put a comforting hand on hershoulder. "Who on that crew isn't a stone-cold killer?" "Odette," Gretchen undercut my argument. "You've got me there. Who, besides Odette, isn't a stone-cold killer? Youare only seeing the tip of our security umbrella. Your father got banged upbecause only one of the two FBI agents with me in Romania could go againstthose terrorists. The other had to guard witnesses critical to our ongoinginvestigation ('pants on fire' lie). Did you expect him to send the rookie inbecause she was a woman and younger, or go himself because he knew he could doa better job?" "Listen ladies, your father was in the midst of battalion-sized battlewith over two hundred dead by sunset. Vincent wasn't taking stupid risks. Whenhe fell, there were over two dozen soldiers and teammates with him. That is therisk we all face in confronting this kind of criminal conspiracy." "I'm not going to lie to you. This team will keep going into dangerousplaces. In time, Vincent will be going in at my side." "You were in the fight too?" Tabitha furrowed her brow. "Yes. I wounded one guy, got grazed and was beaten into unconsciousness.When I came to, one of my bodyguards was dead. Her name was Charlotte and shedied defending your wounded father." "Do you really think your father is going to let that go? Do you think heis going to sit back while the people who sent that band into central Romaniato killmeare still out there?" "Kill you?" Tabitha again. "Yes. This current mess is part of an old feud that started way before anyof us were born. I picked at the scab and now various forces around the globeare trying to either help me, or kill me, along with a truckload of otherpeople. 'Me' going into hiding won't solve anything, so I fight back as best Ican. With men like Vincent at my side, teaching me what to do, I think we canwin this fight. "Selfishly, I need your father. I also think he needs me. He needs mebecause, I guess because with me he sees the hope I can't fathom. In his ownway, he is a lighthouse for me on dark seas." They didn't say anything. They weren't fans of me and my plans for theirfather. I was the answer to their phone call though, and Vincent had raised hisdaughters to make those kinds of tough choices. For me, it felt like yet another hollow victory. I was endangering Vincent andhis family. I had also told them the truth. I needed Vincent to show me theway. I was going to some really dark fucking places and there would be timeswhen Pamela wouldn't be around to put a hand on my shoulder and tell me that wecould win, to give me hope. Yeah. I felt selfish. I also felt I was doing theright thing. {3:30 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go} At the back of the jet heading for New York, Mom and I finally had some alonetime. No crisis was looming on the horizon and my people were giving us enoughspace to give the illusion of privacy. "I don't know where to begin," I muttered. I was fatigued, with theadded bonus of knowing I wouldn't be going to sleep anytime soon. "I didn't mean to fall in love with your father," she said after aminute of introspection. "Considering my upper crust upbringing andtwisted paternal relationship, his love blindsided me." "What was his pickup line? I need to add it to my repertoire." "Ma'am, may I help you?were his first words to me. In theprocess of getting my car's engine to crawl back to life, he found out I wasnew to the area and took me to a crappy little 24-hour diner. I found myselflying to him about my imagined life, and when I finished, I realized I hadn'tfooled him in the slightest. "Your Father knew I was lying and he didn't care. He figured I was someonerunning away from my former life and he saw no reason to confront me about it.He offered me the addresses of various agencies that could help me in case Iwas: a survivor of domestic abuse, a drug addict, or just a woman in need of asecond chance." "We parted ways. Two weeks later, he called one of the Catholic groups Ihad latched on to. I suddenly wanted to see him again, so I invited him out todinner "Five weeks later, I had enough of your Father's honest, open andrespectful ways. I physically attacked him in his pick-up. He was gentle andempathic. Five days later, I moved into the house and two years later, I hadyou." "The pick-up that I learned to drive in?" "No," she chuckled. "I invested well and was able to buy him anew one for our third anniversary." "Why 'Cáel'? I mean, couldn't you have chosen a nice name like Doug, orRichard. Hell, I would have preferred Oliver Cromwell Nyilas as opposed to Cabbage-Head."Mom chuckled. "An O'Shea would never name her child that (Oliver Cromwell)," shepatted my arm. "I don't know why I chose 'Cáel'. When we talked about babynames, 'Cáel' spilled out and your Father liked it." {The next morning, back at Havenstone: 7:10 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5Days to go} "Have fun overthrowing a government?" Buffy surprised me as I steppedinto the elevator. I was finished with firearms training for the day. The planwas for me to briefly touch base with Katrina and answer any of Saint Marie'squestions that might need to be relayed to me. After that, it was back to'work' If anyone is surprised that Buffy was angry with me, they clearly haven'tread about the last 79 days of my life. "Hey my 'First'," I grinned like a fool. I had an out for this crisis "I really want to hit you right now "Why? He's been doing his job," Wiesława rallied to my side. Wiesława also hit the elevator button. We were heading upstairs for aworkout then a bit of sparring. "This discussion doesn't involve you," was Buffy's blistering retort.More softly to me, "You need to spend more time with your new sisters sothey can get to know you. A few of us are worried about a possible challenge." "I figured that might come up," I nodded. It is Amazon law after all."Screw it. Let everyone know I'm not accepting a single challenge until Iget back from the Great Hunt. If I lose, I will entertain offers of challenge.My sisters need to be reminded that I am also Chief Diplomat of the Host." "You can remain Chief Diplomat of the Host and not be a Head ofHouse," Buffy reminded me. "No. You are wrong. This is Dot Ishara's mandate Buffy stared at me silently for several seconds. The door opened. Brielle andher friend stepped on, smiled and came my way. "Going shirtless again," Brielle touched my chin. The other girlrubbed her fingers over my right nipple. Buffy was growling. "Oh, this reminds me of something. Sister Buffy, my 'First', I understandthere has been a list compiled of women I have had relationships with in thepast, or appear willing to have sexual adventures with in the future. Thatstops now." "What of our sisters who feel you need to spend more time with them,"Buffy grumbled. "Have you forgotten about us?" "Buffy, I was stuck at work non-stop since the whole Thailand situationblew up. I have had my attention focused there, where it was needed. Good jobwith Wilma and Vincent, by the way. He is really chomping at the bit to getback in on the information loop. I already have Addison working on one of hissuggestions." "Cáel, you need to think about what happens in 12 days. The Great Huntwill be over. You need to think how Ishara can use the victory to push for amore aggressive Runner agenda. We need to seriously ratchet up the recruitmentin both the First Directive and the New one." "I would like to see another 500 Runners brought into Havenstone by theend of the year and a new crop of men for the next round of candidates ~20?" No one on the elevator: (A) had given that last bit much thought, (B) thoughtit was a good idea, or (C) thought I was joking. From the first round, only two of us were left, and Felix (see Chapter 44Appendix They wouldn't be 'Felix' or me. Given only five initial slots, Katrina andTessa had chosen the very best of the best In two, or three years, those men would be doing more than replenishing theAmazon gene pool. They would be going with their sisters into battle. Everyonein Havenstone wore multiple hats. Our small numbers required it and therewouldn't be enough men to alter that principle. Getting into a House would beeven harder for them than it was for post-Isharan Runners. They would be okay with that. Men could form their own little social clubs andanyway, it wasn't like they wouldn't be getting plenty of trim when they wantedit. I was far more worried about an Amazon raping a man than I was about anyAsh Man raping an Amazon. But 'Men' needed to become part of the equation, instead the answer to aproblem. This would be our war too {Meeting Rayen} I met with Katrina and an Amazon I was to become familiar with. She was old.Not as old as Pamela, but definitely up there in age. The whole right side ofher face was a mass of scar tissue. She was also missing her right eye and twofingers from her left hand. I was willing to bet she could still pull a bow.She was meeting me and Katrina because she was both a fierce warrior and ahighly-accomplished strategist. "I am Rayen Artio," she introduced herself. I racked my brain tryingto figure out who,
"TheBear-Goddess," Katrina enlightened me. "I apologize," Katrinanodded to Rayen as I clasped arms with this woman in the Amazon-style. "I have you to thank for being alive," she grinned at me wickedly."On the occasion of my first great-granddaughters birth, I planned to takemyself to the cliffs. I had lived a full life, my line was strong and I wasfeeling worn. Unfortunately, the 'Peacemaker' "The Golden Mare asked me to forestall my desires to see my ancestorsbecause she believed our people had need of me," she grinned. "I would say I'm sorry about that, but I'm not." I smiled back justas wickedly. "I figure all of us will meet our ancestors eventually and Isee no reason for any of us to rush it. Are you here to become part of mybodyguard, or are you going to do something constructive with your life?" "I was warned by many sources that you were flippant and irreverent,"her expression told me she thought that was a good thing. She was still keepingour arm-grasp. "Saint Marie has selected Rayen to hold a ceremonial title, Katrinainformed me. In Old Kingdom Hittite that mean Western Head of the Queen'sstables. I had a sneaking suspicion it meant more than tossing hay bales in acorral. "That means I am in charge for the Host's fighting forces in North andLatin America," Rayen translated. "Among other things, I am in chargeof training the Houses of the Host for their entry into battle. My first actwas to put forth an edict forbidding anyone from taking themselves to thecliffs without my permission." "That was nice of you," I tried to make light of her beneficence. "My second act was to look into the mustering of all the Houses withholdings in North America. I came across two oddities: the first one standsbefore me and the other one is in Belize." "With the rebirth of the Isharan House guard "Unlike some of my sisters, I have spent years fighting alongside Runners.What they lack in cultural expertise they make up for in ferocity. That needsto stop." "The ferocity?" I clarified. "Yes. We can't afford to lose them, so they will have to learn patience "Thankfully, we all have you as a promise that merely doing their dutywill win them recognition "Umm, thank you? You're welcome?" "Since the First Directive was promulgated, I have nominated fourteenRunners to be in my House. Not one was accepted. I am tired of that shit. If Irecommend someone to House Ishara, will you be amenable?" "Yes "I had heard that," she gave me a feral twist of the lips. "Iwasn't sure if it was the honest truth, or an attempt to personally tarnishyour prestige. Three of the women I nominated are now in your House, just so weboth know we are on the same page." Woot! "Artio's loss is Ishara's gain," I grinned. "Too true. Now to my second oddity "Sakunyias." "Yes; better known as the Friendless," she still hadn't released myarm so I began to stroke the inner forearm with my fingertips. Hey, I had neverdone a chick like her before and I was more intrigued than scared, because I'man idiot. "At your behest, she is raising an uncertain item. The precise Hittitemeaning was 'hand'. In context, it meant five groups of five fists.) Amazon social groups had four members while military groups had five. Why?Everyone in a military group covered a set number of skills. A fifth memberwould fulfill an area of expertise they lacked, or a skill set they needed fora particular mission. Pamela had told me this. (She also told me she hadcontinuously shed herself of the other four sent on assignments with her untilthe Host relented and let her fly solo.) "Saku got her full 125? I know you are some hard-ass bitches, but servingwith her is as close to being in a suicide unit as the Amazons allow," Igrunted. "She has 137. She had 142 to screen. One died and four others were toocrippled to continue. The rest still seem eager enough. Now Saint Marie has tofigure out where to place them for the best effect." "Until they run out of stamina, or blood, they are going to killeverything they come across," I pointed out. "Exactly," Rayen finally let go of my arm. "I wanted to makesure we agreed on that assessment as well." "If she survives, will she be allowed to resurrect House Anat?" "That is for you and the rest of the Council to decide. I think yourchances are good. Of the three Houses you have messed with, Ishara is a go andSzelAnya is a 'more than likely'. Normally I would find the murder of one'shouse head and sister to be an unforgiveable sin. Since I am dealing with you,I won't make a wager either way." "I like you." "That is why I wanted you two to meet," Katrina joined the grin-fest."Now, let's get down to business." "As chief diplomat of the Host, I want you to arrange with the Earth &Sky for weapons shipment to North America" Rayen grew serious."Training burns up lots of ammo and wears down the weapons. Plus, we needto seriously upgrade our stockpile of heavy weapons. "I also want a high-level meeting with the Cult of the Jaguar. Since weshare the same turf, I want a cooperative agreement on mutual defense andsupport." "Huh?" I gasped in surprise. "Can you do it?" "That is not the issue, Rayen," Katrina snorted. "Do you realizeyou're the first Amazon who has officially asked him to do his job? Give him amoment to get over the surprise." I was indeed surprised. Havenstone had taught me never to stay surprised formore than a second, or bad shit would happen. So, back to the task at hand. "Won't there be a weapons problem? We don't use their calibers, orsystems." "Turkey and Georgia are NATO-compatible. What they don't have in their ownstockpiles, or don't produce, they can get from the appropriate member nations.I haven't heard that they are under an arms embargo yet." "Okay "What about the Cult of the Jaguar?" Rayen proceeded. "I already have a diplomate with what passes for a collective managementof the 9 Clans. I'll get right on it. Give me three to five days. Being a groupof secretive assassins, I predict they will have to mull this over beforegetting back to me." "Pleasure talking to you," she finally let go of me. "Keep meinformed of diplomatic developments within my jurisdiction. I look forward tomeeting with you again," and off she went. Nice ass and not just for anolder chick. "Rayen was nominated for Golden Mare," Katrina mused. "Too 'Runner' friendly?" "Yes and she has always felt free to speak her mind. My two favoriteretorts of hers were: 'that's as stupid as setting aside your shovel so you canshovel manure with your hands' and 'you are the one they kept?' (as opposed tothrowing them off the cliffs for being defective at birth)." "I'm glad she is on our side," I nodded. Katrina knew I meant both asa weapon for the Host and as a friend to Ishara's interpretation of the FirstDirective. "She's been shot, stabbed or riddled with shrapnel 27 times, been declaredmedically dead twice, is 61 years old and I still wouldn't want to face her ona sparring mat, much less match wits with her on the battlefield," Katrinaagreed. "She is also one of our best strategic minds." Sixty-one? That meant she had fought in the last round of the Secret War. Byher looks and demeanor, she was a soldier, not a sniper like Pamela. Correctthat "Is there anything else?" I turned to Katrina. "A few things Executive Services have come across that we want JIKIT tolook into," she began. The short version: by the end of December,Havenstone was on schedule to recruit 202 Runners. Overall, the number ofAmazons would fall with battle attrition. Saint Marie and Katrina were okaywith that. A long, low-intensity war of attrition actually worked in the Amazon's favor.The quality of the replacements would remain high. Every Amazon was already atrained combatant. Training new recruits to that level would require two years.(Working them up to Security Detail level would take another year.) Ourfanaticism would not diminish at all. No war-weariness would set in. Despite the existence of the Golden Mare and the Council, the Amazons weren't acentralized society. Killing our leadership would be bad, but not catastrophic.The eldest surviving Amazon of each House would become the new leader and shewould appoint an apprentice, and on and on. The 9 Clans shared in that adaptability, though they did not have the Amazon'snumbers. The rest had hierarchies with some degree of infighting. This was mostextreme in the Illuminati and the Seven Pillars, less so in the Condottieri andeven less so in the Earth & Sky and the Egyptian Rite. The death of Hayden exemplified that point. At the start of the war, theAmazons had lost their supreme authority and it hadn't slowed them down a bit.In contrast, the death of Cael O'Shea brought the Illuminati to the bargainingtable and resulted in the 30 year truce ~ the Protocols. We finished up our little meeting with a discussion on the Illuminati and what,if anything, the Amazons could do about them. Our plate was full fighting theCondos while aiding the 9 Clans and E&S in their war with the 7P's.Vigilance remained the watch-word. Ten minutes later, I was heading to work.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
The first Ishara open House Challenge.
Book 3 in 18parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the► Podcast at Connected.
OddHappenings {8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time} I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her I was traveling light with only Wiesława So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil MaTowers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in apart of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right?Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine youngmen from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in mylife I was sure they had one Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hanafor me. Not the Ghost Tigers The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab. "Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you heretoday?" It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, weresaying anything and they were normally so verbose. "Sibeal." "Imogen." "Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," theother one said. "Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to bedead," Mom bantered back. "How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way. "Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled.I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother wasabout to die' upside down akaramped up my sexy, 'glad to see youin a totally incestuous way'. "So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs withthe rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'mhappy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out ofme and it was so well deserved. "I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged herafter Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible humanbeing and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable. "Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?'except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea. No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby hadheard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn'tpassing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept myhands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact. "Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamelawas going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me aswell. "I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded. "Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down andfigure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?" "Come home with me," she suggested. "No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we allknow you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland. "No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my owndecisions. That being said "Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, Ihave important work to do. People are counting on me." "We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that isthe other reason we came here. We need you." "Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?" "Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were athousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior "Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room toensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a familychat," I offered. "We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom. "We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she isas much family to me as you both are." They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, orsomething horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. Thebodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all. "What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared. "Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying tofigure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped. "Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah,the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with.Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his geneticmake-up meaning, "Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?" "Yes," Deidre replied to Mom. "Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raisedby Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over toher being a humanitarian of any kind. "The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "Youhate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa. "So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat. "Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making someconcessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter howterrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None ofthat is going to happen. What do you need from me?" "Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments,"Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physicaladvantage, Mom stood as well. "No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "Youdon't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn'tmean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all thetime. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me.Try again." "We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested. "How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was evenworthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possibleheir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barringyou betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe." "Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going tobe a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the worldthat can double as his cousin." "That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still soundspretty terrible." While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching.How in the fuck was I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, thelegacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdleafter hurdle to keep the faith alive Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in theirstruggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore themortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing meon to fulfill his last command I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellowguardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of thewhole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I couldget gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite thetoxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm anidiot. When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Isharahad won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot wasinsisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alalreceived his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him deadbecause of a feud that stretched back over two millennia. As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's geneticallymanipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on hisown That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meetIshara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue forsome snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. Itwouldn't do any good, but I had to try. "Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm. "No reason," I lied. "Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself nextto me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likesher."
"No can-do," Isniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except therewon't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomfulof women to not beat me up and take my stuff." "You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in "For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I haveto go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing withouttelling me what the right thing to do is." "That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest. "Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at HavenstoneCommercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the realfun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-freeweek. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well formyself.
{9:28 am, Wednesday,Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go} I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of futureIsharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. Ihad spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind theIshara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-upwas their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the AmazonHost. After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch,with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina(any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) andanother to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmedbodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue. The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of anotherone of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that AuntImogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested itwould be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around forthe visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest inkeeping her alive. "Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?" "It is a date then," I stumped her. "You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy'ssizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions. "Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out towherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperativestrategy." "And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy. "Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay andLesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave." "And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile. "I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finallyfind out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience youwill enjoy." "I don't know. I think I'd like that." "No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not behappy; I guarantee that, Buffy." She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride. "Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded mydisappointment. "Yes. Will you be there?" "Of course," she grumped. "Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends,'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice. "Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter twoone bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More thananyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with myIsharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when eventspermit." "But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish andcare-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can'twork with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara andnothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Yourchoice." "Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped. "Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan outsome personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you stilldecided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now,with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming.The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me. "I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have todeal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations withExecutive Services." "Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working forKatrina full time?" "Really?" she whispered. "Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for thejob because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I pickedyou because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whateveris necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestorshave dumped in our lap." "I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt andremember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," Irumbled. "I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed. "Nice to know. We on for Monday night?" Pause. "Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again."Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, thenhung up again. "So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace tobreak out, or Nuclear War?" "Hardy-har-har," I griped. "Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have somethingfor you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard ofKōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan." "Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for theNinja?" "That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Ofcritical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gaveearlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement. "He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That isold news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation ofthe original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theologicalforces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usherin a new period of Peace throughout Asia." "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled. "He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, bothspiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanesepurity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, theChinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asiaaway from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery. "In fact I quote:'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only theJapanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only theJapanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese canguide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'." "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious,a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came outof my mouth. "Correct." "None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin'sbackground is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him areincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued. "This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims tochannel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him asthe Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yetanother name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims toconsult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mysticdefense, with the aid of theFive Sacred Sisters' Spirits." Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong, "Ah Hell," I muttered. Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was myposition on the team. "He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "Heisn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave." "I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "Howbad is it?" "The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who diedin order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&Sand Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet." "Technically, the WeaveISthe Supreme Being. It'slargely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response tooutside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be ableto see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key playersscrewing with that destiny. "That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their ownbrand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others havebeen attempting." "How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered. "Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of amagic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom)." "The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghostthe 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped andtortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. Icountered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave. "All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had beendead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't killanyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products ofdisruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet anotherdisruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from fivethousand years ago. "Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't bedead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war?Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger forWorld Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption willstill carry on. "Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet weare all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group.I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. LadyYum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more. "You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity. "I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've beenthe conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man.Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of myundead Grandfather floating around in my head?" "I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out myass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless." "So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., oursovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired. "Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who couldbe turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and athumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room.They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I wascurious, but had to carry on with my train of thought. "Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key,quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms ofmagical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let thishappen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with thisguy and get a feel for his personality." "That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addisonprotested. "The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis.People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to getahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give himthe whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Evenworse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched." "Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick,their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their ownspiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yetanother person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has theadded benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get athim. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get. "Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lestthey kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or theE&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceivedenemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity." "I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board aswell. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (Andwith the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) Thethree 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of ourdiscussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a fewinsanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset. "Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart(Yum-Yum). "The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a ConstitutionalAmendment to repeal/reviseArticle 96of the JapaneseConstitution." "Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyonein the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86. 'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knewabout the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew bothwhatArticle 96was and what its amendment really meant.Good-old96was the rolling dark cloud across the politicalGreat Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and theirarrival could mean anything. Article 96dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended.The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House ofRepresentatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. Theproposed amendment toArticle 96would transform the processto a mere majority vote in both Houses. Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried topull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese LiberalDemocratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clearmajority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). Ifthe amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP couldpretty much do as they pleased. And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put torest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally importantArticle9. And what was that? Real World Stuff: Warnings Article 9: (1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice andorder, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of thenation and the threat or use of force as means of settling internationaldisputes. (2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, andair forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The rightof belligerency of the state will not be recognized. IfArticle 9was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercisediplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreignpower. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion ayear (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1%of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economiesall functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget. Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures,except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending onanything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate'smilitary expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but thiswas an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantagein the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base. The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long,grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wreckedtheir country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly againstthem because the Khanate wasn't alone. India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combinedtune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional$90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billionto their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both payfor their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of theirother forces. All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and globaleconomies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for theKhanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' waspossibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else. They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while thefuture of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the militarybudget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It wouldalso put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations. With the repeal ofArticle 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means'to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had thenaval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendlygesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred ofappreciation for their efforts. No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of theRising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred wasbased on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decadebetween 1937 to 1945). (The Cornerstone)There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese,Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be onesupreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed thelogical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910),beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to warwith China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war. To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple theJapanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asiannatural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors intoa futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China andlost. With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, Chinahad risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population,natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japancouldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government hadlived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way. The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broadacceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, thehalf-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and theVietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until theSoviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.
A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm,couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking,until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, onethat turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominionof Asia was up for grabs once more. Japancould notovercome China; that was a given. The Dragonhad more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Givena decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny ofnumbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable. India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry.Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam hadneither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less beensuccessful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had ahost of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributedas much as Putin dared. Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained inthe hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way thoserulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there wasno industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threatenthe People's Republic of China. Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, theCommunist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. Noother nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitutionbound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternalpacifism. The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese SelfDefense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well havebeen in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazilwas the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a PermanentSeat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desireas it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power. Japan? Ha. Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except theNinja and JIKIT) coup d' The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-politicalsituation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism movedyou toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearlywithdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground. If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more peopleat your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerlyfringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was inthe process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's)business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so theysaid. That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking toblame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been workingalongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrongand had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing thehard-working Japanese workers their jobs. If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you.Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade.Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and,worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escapethe obvious oncoming national catastrophe. The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they werelucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining allthe key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as aviable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in theDeveloping World, worse was heading your way. The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websiteswasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nationsinvesting in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. Thegovernments representing a third of the World's population were not investingin their economies. Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on theshelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; yourexpenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with asecured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interestrate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy wasstable. If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn'tcompete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with otherDeveloping World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of thoseconsumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse. It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now thoseonce poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed yourgovernment to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise moneyby taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And therich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoidingpaying. Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for gettingtheir countries through these rough stretches. The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economicoutlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.' The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war:'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.' The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, theCentral Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of theRepublic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack oftransparency, we'll call you back.' World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what wecan.' F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn'ttalk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another,far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the innerworkings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting eventssurrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts majorwith a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent IntelligenceAnalyst!} The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N.,India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to thismadness; all with typical results: The U.S.A:We are working on it(without letting them knowwhat precisely they were working on) Japan:Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to bemore useful as wallpaper. The U.N.: We are working on it(with their long-establishedtradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed) Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from theFirst Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meetingsometime before Christmas? The PRC:We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanesopen, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorialwaters? Japan:What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of ourbiggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! Thatwas not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd. (Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral KatsutoshiKawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has madethis outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around theirterritorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right? Kawano: Which time? Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is thisthe first time I'm hearing about it? Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't wantto know. Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of thedamn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to theChinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can comeback to screw us over? Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not verylikely, Prime Minister. Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know whatyou 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts andrecordings of this conversation. Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you,Prime Minister. Sayōnara. ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen theunimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you seethe smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet? Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks againstthe Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipinowaters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you aretruly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.
Japan, {muttering}Investigating the attacks that came from yourterritory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!
(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, JapaneseNational Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate hasforces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to knowanything about it?
Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition anddestination of those forces.
Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Wouldyou please tell me what is going on.
Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which willguarantee Japanese security for decades to come.
Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating andimplementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehowover-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?
Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of theKinkyūtokushu sakusen tasukufōsu(Emergency Special Operations TaskForce). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since weneed to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada(of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the ForeignMinistry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up themajority of the task force's operatives.
Awbee: What have you been doing?
Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things,awkward.
Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the electedhead of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionageand war my deputies are executing?
Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?
Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?
Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?
Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing todiscuss regional affairs?
Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.
AS: What!
Yachi: Sir, I wouldhardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine theintentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessarycommunications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact? AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conductingany domestic espionage missions? Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir. Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'mstill Prime Minister, aren't I? Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiledtwo enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remainvigilant. AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of mysecurity in on this conspiracy of yours too? Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at allcosts. Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any traceof this conversation. Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night. India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability.Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it.Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China SeaAwaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there isgoing to be further instability in Southeast Asia. Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking SouthChina Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why areyou doing this to us? What have we ever done to you? The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize,but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. Itis them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to yourrequest to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the SouthChina Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for thosetwo invasion attempts seven hundred years ago. (Note from Prime Minister to Self)Great. The only reasonablepeople who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can'tacknowledge talking to. I've got to do something about this, right after Idelete this message. Back to the fictional world stuff: "Is Japan really going to ally with the Khanate?" I looked at Rikki.She was our East Asian expert. "We are making things contingent on the South Koreans being mollified.They have their own bad history with Japan. A war-like Japan will have them onedge. Do you think your 'Brother' can offer up something the South Koreanswould appreciate?" she tossed the grenade back in my lap. That was my cue to contact Iskender. We agreed to meet someplace innocuous. Onthe way to the meeting, I received a cryptic call from Katrina. She needed meback at Havenstone ASAP. No details, well, no surprise there. I dumped everything we had in Iskender's lap. He was smiling like a monkey whohad just discovered a banana plantation. "What's up?" I cautiously inquired. "Nothing. Xanzada (Prince ~ he only called me 'Ulı Khaan s "So, you've basically lost your mind," I commented. "I agree. I will deliver your communications at once and convey anyresponse if necessary. I haven't heard of the Great Khan rejecting your adviceonce. I am having the time of my life," he declared. "One of your brothers is marrying up, isn't he?" I pierced throughthe murk. "Yes. How did you know?" "Call it a hunch. How much?" "My youngest brother, currently in service, is marrying a daughter of the "Congrats. Can I send the happy couple a gift? When is the wedding?" "Anything from you would be treasured," Iskender kept grinning."They will be married in January, no specific date yet. My brother needsto return to his unit before the war resumes." "I'll check my madcap schedule and see if I can wrangle for me and Hanaattending," I offered. My loyal Iskender's eyes glowed. I owed him big. Iowed a good number of people and I was happy getting around to paying some ofthem back. Good news in hand, I raced back to JIKIT. They were readying theinformation, (plus my positive vibes), for distribution to our supportingagencies and societies. Javiera was in the room Rikki, Beatrice and Yum-Yum had vacated, alreadybriefing Senator Collins on the latest developments. The United States To brighten up what was already turning out to be a stressful day, Lady Yum-Yumreminded me the little-appreciated and highly under-funded G-2 hadmicro-orgasms every time we sent them these 'For Your Eyes Only' data packets. Now they could look all those 'high and mighty' NATO intelligence agencies withtheir half-billion The Conversation, from an Irish point-of-view: Snickering, "Sorry you 'pompous-as-fuck' Head of the DGSE (France'sGeneral Directorate for External Security), what was that you wanted? "Every bit of information we have about the goings-on in Asia? "You mean all that super-secret, nearly impossible-to-obtain intelligence? "Of course we have it. We have one of our 'elite' intelligence officersinside JIKIT. Don't you? Pity. "Sure we trust you, just as much as you have trusted us over the pastfifty years. "No, we are not holding on to a petty grudge. We are sure when you calledus 'a bunch of drunken imbeciles on tricycles with training wheels' youmeant it in the best possible way. Besides, you called us that way back when,oh yeah, last Bastille Day, months and months ago." "Absolutely, if the Khanate is about to drop a Tunguska-size dump on your'National Interests' we'll let you know, right after it has been handed to usby the most meticulously accurate sources imaginable, which we will clarify andverify by accessing our up-to-the-second updates, and then have finishedanalyzing itafterwe tricycle our drunken asses back from thepub where we will be tossing back a few Guinness thanking the Almighty forloving us and hating you." (Snicker) The Last Eleven {11:50 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go} "So Katrina, what is so important," I bit down on my yawn. Before mestood eight people; four of those frightful chicks from SD plus Elsa andKatrina, who was being guarded by a woman I didn't know. None of that mattered.Who mattered was,
"Hello, Eruthros,"I regarded the red-haired Mycenaean warrior. "I think I recognize thosecoffle chains." Yeah, standing between two of 'said' SD Amazons was a relentless foe whose lifehad intersected mine now four times and we had somehow avoided killing eachother. He was nearly-naked, in a chain getup that connected with a neck collar,wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and a waist chain. His boxers were clearly not hisown. I imagine all of that came with an anal and oral checkups, which ended upcovering the same territory. "Why is he here, like this?" I looked to Elsa. "He showed up at the front desk, identified himself, requested a parleyand asked to speak to you. We took him down and made absolutely sure he wascompletely unarmed," she answered. "He insists he talk to you before we kill him," Elsa spoke with thecertainty of the grave. "Only Katrina's curiosity has staid ourhand." Eruthros was about to say something. I held up my hand to forestall him. "What I meant to convey was 'why has he been treated this way?' Unchainhim and give him back his clothes and weapons," I commanded. Why? BecauseI could, damn it! "That is not your order to give," Elsa shook her head slightly. "Au contre," I stared at her. "He is a representative of afaction we are at war with, has clearly come here to parley and since I am theChief Diplomat of the Host, the only recommendation to the Council that mattersconcerning his treatment is mine to give, not yours." "He is a foresworn enemy of our People," Katrina studied me."His death is guaranteed. This is my judgement in my capacity as 'FirstBearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death." She wasplaying with me. "You overstep your authority," I challenged her, because she wantedme to. "He is neither an Amazon, a traitor to the Host, nor an enemy we need toferret out, he is standing right in front of us. He has come here in goodfaith, thus dealing with him is my job, not yours. You may question him if youwish, but his fate and comfort is mine to decide." "No." Katrina. "Nice to know, don't care, Elsa, I am ordering you to release him becauseotherwise sharing a meal with him will be rather problematic." "Cáel Nyilas Wakko-Ishara, this will not happen." "Cool beans." I looked to one of the other SD ladies. I recalled hername being Nairi. "Nairi, unchain him." Her eyes narrowed then sheshot a quick look to the side of Elsa's head. Elsa's eyes were locked on me. "Shall I rephrase, Nairi, will you obey the lawful order of a member ofCouncil and official of the Amazon Host, or are you going to hand me a lock ofyour hair before you, well, you've been forbidden to take yourself to thecliffs so I imagine said action would make you a Runner. Care to try out forSaku's unit? I hear she's only taking the baddest of the bad." That wasn't going to happen. Neither Elsa nor Katrina would let it go that far. "Better face such an end than betray my people by unleashing thismonster," she ground out. I was so proud of her, that selfless fanaticism. "Oh, thank Ishara," I nearly buckled over. "Nairi, I don't wantyou to suffer that 'end' either, but I'm glad you've acknowledged my authorityto place that dilemma before you." "You tricked me," she seemed confused, then angry. "Well, I sure as Hell can't beat you up, so yeah, I tricked you andeveryone in this room who isn't Katrina. Sorry Elsa." "108 hours, Bitch," was Elsa's response. That was right. Monday at 5:00 pm I 'graduated', ending my internship thusallowing me to date freely within Havenstone. I was still going to forgo anysuch liaisons except with Buffy, and, if I could sneak it in, with Rhada andOneida. Tuesday morning I would trundle myself off to wherever Felix wastraining. The next Friday, the Great Hunt began. Had so much time reallypassed? "We seem to be at an impasse," Katrina smirked. "Hey, is this new chick Epona House Guard?" I was putting thingstogether. How do you depict a nearly-naked, TSA-nightmare victim, shackledEnemy of the People to be even tougher than he already was? Insist that thenormal bad-asses at the SD 'might' not be enough for the task, of killingEruthros. "Reanna of Epona," Katrina made the introductions, "meet themost obtuse male you most likely will ever be confronted with." "So, is no one going to free Eruthros, or am I going to have to summon mylegion of hunch-backed henchwomen? Or Pamela? Pamela can probably pick thoselocks in no time." "This is not a joking matter," Elsa refocused on the issue at hand. "Good enough," I nodded. I stepped up, grabbed Eruthros's waist chainand twisted him around. "Don't move." Then I pulled out my gun andaimed it at the closest wrist cuff. I had to move him to make sure no one elsewas in line with my bullet's projected path. That they could have protested. "I will kill him before you pull the trigger," Elsa reminded me. "Good point, all of you who aren't with House Epona, or my guest, leave.You are no longer welcome, or all that helpful." "Cáel, before this goes any further," Katrina intervened. "Whydon't you tell uswhyyou want to free him." "The Host are not barbarians. We are neither noble, by any other standardthan our own, nor do we forego inflicting cruelty on our enemies, we welcomeit. What we are not is 'false-faced rapist who invite others to share our cups,or a request to parley, so we can enslave, or slaughter them'. We are not thosepeople and I would rather die honoring my ancestor (the first Ishara) than letus behave so. We should know better." "He isoneof those men who did that to us," Nairiseethed. "Precisely," I agreed. "Knowing that, he placed his life intoour hands. For us, it is ancient history seared into our souls. For Eruthros itplayed out a few months ago. The fact we becameworsethan himstands before you now, in me." "No," Elsa denied me. "There are too many playmates of three young boys to count whosedescendants are no longer around to argue with you. You slaughtered them, yourown sons, in one night," I hardened. "Now tell me the butchery ofyour own bloodlines, your own flesh and blood, wasn't an even greateratrocity." I could see the defense of their actions written all over their faces, the SDand Reanna. The 'sons' were males and still, in too many of their eyes,unworthy. "You didn't butcher young boys that night. You murdered every daughterthose men would ever have. How lonely we have become because those daughtersnever had daughters of their own, because we lost our souls?" Oh, that hadn't occurred to them, though it was painfully obvious to me. "That's right. That night we killed half the Amazons who would have livedin the past 2,500 years. Today, that stops. It stops here, with you and me withthis ancient foe. Now, free him because I say so, because I am right and all ofyou know it. Stop pretending you even have a choice." "Ishara," Elsa murmured at me. She wasn't talking to me. She washonoring my ancestor and my goddess, the Peacemakers. Elsa stepped to up toEruthros, brandished a key and began undoing his manacles. "Get hisbelongings," she directed to a random Security Detail member. Off shewent. "That was a bit tight," Eruthros finally spoke as he rubbed hiswrists. I didn't think he was talking about the chains. "Give me a sec," I grinned at him. "Katrina, could you pleasearrange for me and our guest to have something to eat and drink delivered tothis office while we discuss the reason for his visit?" Now I was beingvery polite. Katrina deserved that and more. Katrina picked up her phone and forwarded the request. Tea and crab cakes wasthe meal of convenience. "Eruthros, before we get down to the nitty-gritty of our family relations,reminiscing over friends we miss and honoring fallen foes, why don't you tellme why you are here?" "We would like to bury Ajax," he bowed his head, a warrior beseechingan enemy-prince. "Okay," I told 'Red'. He appeared to be retaining some doubts."I've been doing various people a shitload of favors. They owe me. Gettingone dead guy out of a morgue won't be a problem." "Really?" he seemed shocked. This was a desperation mission spurned on by oaths of loyalty from a liegemanto his king, not something most modern people would understand. If nothingelse, they would ask something for the service. 3,000 years ago, that wasn'thow it worked. Even in death, Ajax belonged to his people. To deny that was amalignant insult. Leave no man behind,? Was that the Rangers, or the Marines? I'd have toask Chaz. Would those modern elites understand Eruthros' plea? Or had theMassacre of the Amazons at the Seven Skulls removed them from such dignifiedcompany? They weren't here, I was. "Cáel, this is not an activity I can expend Havenstone assets on. Unlikethat other matter, retrieving Ajax's body for burial is not Amazonbusiness," Katrina announced. She had to keep up the pretense of her disapproval.That other matter, I needed to deal with that too. "That's fine. I don't need Executive Services for this mission. I've gotit covered." "Exactly what resources do you imagine you have?" Elsa cocked aneyebrow. Normally she was smarter than this. Or maybe she was teasing me too. "I figure four ninja to do the task and three Black Hand to providesupport. We might not even need to smuggle the body out of Europe," Ienlightened the room. "I've been standing up for the 9 Clans side sinceDay One. As I said, they owe me." Elsa bowed to my creative criminality. "And his armor and weapons," Eruthros added. "And his armor and weapons," I repeated. "Retrieving the body is one thing," Katrina schooled me."Virtually no one breaks into a morgue, even a Federal Police one. Theywould store his personal belongings in a far more secure location. Finding hispersonal weaponry will be even more difficult." "If we cannot find them, I will give you my two axes which I bore when Iwitnessed his passing," I offered Eruthros. "Thank you," he clasped my hand. Tears began edging down his cheeks.Those old Greeks, and just about everyone else in those days, openly cried,exchanged crude jokes and laughed no matter how bizarre the situation. Showingemotion was what men did. They relished life because theirs could be so brutishand short. "Where are you going to bury him?" I inquired. I was feeling a bitsniffley myself. Charlotte had paid the price so I could be here, talking tohim, today. "Salamis, among his kinsfolk," Eruthros responded. "I would like to attend if I may." "You would be welcome," he brightened up. In a way, I could be seen as honoring a man I came to personally fear anddespise. Ajax was a pig, a beast. Not of all his men had been and I was doingthis for them. Honoring the dead meant so much more to those who survived.Having buried my Father, I knew that to be true. "What's next for you and yours?" I changed the subject. "We aren't sure. The Condottieri have abandoned the few of us who remain.I imagine one day Teucer will come to you to settle accounts. For the rest ofus," "Want a job?" "We would never work for the Amazons," he shook his head. "Not the person I am thinking about at all. How would you like to go workfor the Great Khan? He is going to need the hardest stone-cold killers withtesticles in the Northern Hemisphere." "Why would he accept us?" "He is my spiritual-brother," I informed him. "If I tell him youand the others can shift the outcome of any fight, he will take you in." "We are neither mercenaries nor willing to work for you," Eruthroslooked down. "I will pay in the currency that matters," I put my hand on hisshoulder. "I will relate to you and yours the last moments in the life ofAjax the Unconquered." "When?" "At the funeral, but I will have an extra request for you." "What is it?" "I will not live forever. I wish you to forgive the family of hisassassin. When you bury Ajax, you will bury that anger. Let one more deathsettle the matter." "That, that I think I can convince the others to do. You would not ask foryour own life?" "I deserve much of the hate showered down on my life. I wish my children,all our children, to grow up in a better world." "Who is Ishara?" "She is the Goddess of many things. Most importantly to me, Dot-Ishara isthe Goddess of Oaths. She binds our promises in blood and punishes thefalse-hearted and the oath-breakers. Serving her is always painful, but far toooften worthwhile." "Children," Eruthros mused. "I had not considered such a thing.Vengeance has consumed our thoughts." "The truly great warriors go home," I adlibbed, "raise childrenand lie to them about their experiences while passing on those heart-rendinglessons that carried them so far." "Endless war makes no sense to me. Conflict always has a way of findingus, be we unready, prepared, fresh, or tired. Best we prepare the nextgeneration who will have to face those challenges, make something good out ofall the death and pain." "Give you a few more years and you will be an Epic warrior, Cáel NyilasWakko Ishara," he put his hand on my shoulder to mirror mine. "Hey now," I faux-protested. "What did I ever do to deservethat?" "When the Great Achilles died, there was no one worthy of picking up hissword. We Greeks, we Mycenaeans, were swept away. What became of our sons anddaughters? Where are the songs sung in their honor? Did we expend our very bestfor an insignificant town on a hill? Did we?" "Not all the Mycenaeans are dead, Eruthros," I pointed out. "The Amazons, when I knew them, they were like you; fearlessly happy andbrave. They would be proud, I guess you being a man, I can't say they would beproud of you, but I would like to think they would sing paeans around yourfuneral pyre." Not a single Amazon in the room commented on his memories. He knew theirancestors and they didn't. He also had had a hand in stilling that joy andfreely-embraced fierceness. Whatever they had once been so long ago, the Greekshad stolen all the good away and left the hate, pain and sense of betrayal thathad carried my Amazons through the millennia. "I have a daughter. Her name is Aya and her playful laughter can stillsteal the crushing weight of storm-waves as tall as a city wall, her tinystrength overcomes the winds of a hurricane through her relentlessdetermination, and her compassionate smile picks you up when pain andexhaustion would otherwise unman you. She is absolutely wonderful and I wouldlike you to meet her someday, when all of this (the bloodletting) is behindus." "I would like that," he grinned. "Did he just promise to show your niece to this monster?" Reannadidn't whisper softly enough for me not to here, most likely on purpose. "He is her 'Atta', so he is well within his rights to make that request ofCaitlyn." "But you are the House Head," Reanna protested. "I trust Cáel with Aya's life. Absolutely. I have before and I would do soagain," Katrina's eyes played over my countenance. Yeah, she had let Ayabe kidnapped along with me, thus putting her in the hands of the Seven Pillars.Her trust had cost Aya two digits from her ring finger, a mark she would bearher entire life. "Making the request to Caitlyn is a mere formality. Sheshares my faith in him." I had to think about that, and other things. "No," Katrina shook her head in the negative. "You may not sleepwith Reanna. Buffy would find out and beat the crap out of her. I need themboth." "Did you just pull a 'Pamela' on me?" I scowled. Reanna was stillgetting over the 'I would never sleep with him' and the 'why won't you let mesleep with him?' "You are aroused and Reanna has been sucking up your man-candy anima sinceyou walked into the room, no psychic powers required," she corrected me. "Does this happen to you often?" Eruthros regarded me with renewedrespect. "Yes," Elsa answered for me. "What she said," I smirked. The rest was simple and more than a bit archaic and manly. Eruthros' panoplywas returned, he dressed and then we ate, sitting on the floor of Katrina'soffice while the normal ES business was carried on around us. We both set ourweapons aside as we shared our meal. He told me a dozen things a hundredhistorians devoted to the Bronze-Age Greeks would have personally torn theright testicles off their closest colleague for. He was literate, knew some Old Kingdom Hittite, Minoan and Scythian and enoughEgyptian to recognize it when I spoke a few words. Having lived inside acitadel (and not out in the fields with the peons), he knew how those oldalliances, bonds, ties of kinship and other loyalties really worked. I repaid those insights by educating him on modern dating practices and why youwanted women who were lethally competent as well as hot-looking and hellcatsbeneath sheets. After all, he and his tiny band of friends had their ownmartial societal traditions to pass down. By the time he departed, I hadplanted the seeds of a future beyond Ajax in his mind. I hoped he would share my thoughts, hopes and dreams for the Mycenaeans withhis ten surviving brethren. Five were in prison and not likely to ever get out,without outside help? The Khanate perhaps? The others: Red and one other hadmade their escape from Romania. Teucer and three others had been wounded beforethe final encounter at the Seven Skulls. An hour later, I walked him out of the building. He took a taxi to somewherethat wasn't here. As his car faded into the noontime mass of New York traffic,Wiesława finally spoke. "What is Buffy going to do when she finds out what foolish risks you tooktoday and plan to do in the near future?" "Pat me on the back and tell me to keep up the good work?" I tried tosound up beat. Lucky for me, I had a few fortune cookies in my pocket becausethat pigeon must have been a half-kilometer up when he decided to do his bestimitation of a Peregrine Falcon. It probably didn't penetrate his littlebird-brain that he had nothing approaching the aerodynamic qualities that wouldallow him to pull up in time. Ishara: "Man, that is going to leave a mark," I mumbled. A nice comfylap-pillow eased the pain in my noggin. "Did you have to sacrifice thatwinged-rat?" "Don't give me that," my Goddess scolded me. "I wasn't the onewho sat calmly in a room with one of the perpetrators of the most grievouscrimes ever committed against my people, comforting him in his time ofsuffering." "Unleash a damn Al "Those are Sumerian." "I seem to recall you working with a Sumerian goddess recently," I countered. "Are you angry about Tad "Why do you even ask?" I groaned. My head was really going to hurtwhen I woke up. "I am (angry), you are cruel and it is your nature to useus mortals for your own purposes. I imagine whatever good you do for mankind isaccidental." "No," she brushed her fingernails along my forehead. "If wecould leave you to your devices, we divinities would. Life is not that simple.There are forces at work that would destroy the Weave and collapse all reality.By nurturing the good, we secure your future and our own." "Illuyankamunus, demons, black necromancers?" "Yes. As I have told you before," "There is no 'one' destiny. I imagine, ignorant of the outcome, you worrythat humanity might not work it out quite right," I sighed. "Please, do not despair," she took a handful of hair and dragged itover my upturned hand, caressing my fingertips, which felt really, really good."I appreciate all you have done for me on your own initiative. I am not sojaded that I am inured to human suffering, yours especially."
"My sweet Cáel, Ishare your tears. I do not wish things to have turned out as they have. As thecurrent of the future changes, I must change or succumb to it. If this helps,had you run away from Havenstone that first Tuesday, I would have protectedyou," she swore. "Because I was the last scion of Vranus likely to perpetuate the nextgeneration," I pierced her self-deception. "Don't bother telling meotherwise. I think I know the real reason I asked you to remove the ability foryou and the other divinities to read my mind." "You think it is a female power-fantasy," she reminded me. After all,that had been the last thought she had stolen from my privacy. I had beenthinking that, yet now I began to see it in another light. It was myfinely-honed, dearly paid for, instincts about the female psyche. It was probably a combination of Ishara's first words to me today and Anaisthat opened my eyes to a greater truth. Women neither forgive nor forget. Notreally. "Like Eruthros, that night of rape for you was yesterday, not threethousand years ago," I unveiled my reasoning. "Vranus aside, you havenever forgiven male-kind. As much as I feel you have true affection for me, I'mstill a guy." "No," she tried to smooth my troubled mind. "You can't let Eruthros go in peace, even when it is the well-reasonedchoice of your lone descendent, breathing one, anyway. What Eruthros and hisfriend did was heinously wrong. 'Me', any of us, turning on him when he showedup in good faith would have been the final surrender to the Mycenaeans of ourown sense of right and wrong." "Three thousand years ago, before the First Betrayal, we would have neverconsidered butchering him outright though we could refuse him. Likewise, hisoffer was genuine and his request just. What need does the Host have of Ajax'scorpse? What does it profit us to humiliate his followers? Do we really need tokill those final eleven? Teucer will come seeking vengeance in time, but now hewon't do so as a sniper." "I have taken away their outrage as an excuse for his actions. If he killsme from afar, he has surrendered his honor to me and we both know he will notdo that. I am an honorable foe. As a Prince of my People, that honor permeatesthe Host. When Teucer comes for me it will be face to face. He will have tostare me straight in the eyes and I will kill him." "I, I apologize," Ishara wept. "Poor Vranus. He wasn't veryclever, but he was unswervingly loyal. I was wrong to think so poorly of himand discount his honest courage and love for his family. I confess, I nevertreated his worship, or the worship of his father and grandfather as beingtruly equal to that of his mothers and sisters." "You will stand by me and my decision about Eruthros?" I shuddered.I'd been unconscious for a bit of time. "Yes. Yes I will, my lovely Cáel," a tear escaped her cheek andlanded on mine. It felt weird, a combination of coolness and a tickling levelof electricity. "Why am I here? I assume you have something to impart and weren't simplyout to kill that poor pigeon with me as a witness," I chuckled. "Ah, It would be so much easier if I could touch your mind," shehinted, poorly. "Not happening, please let SzelAnya know I need to talk to her soon, I'mstarting to feel stiff." "I, perhaps, had that pigeon hit you, a bit too hard. You were concussedfor quite some time. Added to that, we have chatted about other matters forover a minute," she chastised me because all this talking was totally myfault. "Why do you, you remain very clever, MY Cáel." Her possessivenessdidn't bother me. She was my guardian Goddess after all and would one dayprotect my children with equal devotion. If my fucked up life was anyindicator, they'd need the help. She would let me talk to SzelAnya because Iundoubtedly had a reason to do so, even if she didn't approve, of either myidea, or me being with a rival goddess. "Think of Aya," she urgently imparted. "Think of Aya and knowshe deserves to grow up to be an Amazon just like you. Give her the freedom todo so.Where there is Valor, there is Hope. Greatness should bemeasured by the lives you save, not those you take. When the time," I felt her kiss upon my nose, then the pain kicked back in fulltime. I alsorealized my fortune cookies were gone (she'd stolen all three of them,Goddess-damn it!) I had to get some more before my next 'philosophic' sessionthreatened my skull's integrity, tempting it to surrender to months ofcontinuing abuse. Lassies, and not in a good way. 'Ow, ow, ow, ow' kept bouncing around my head. "He's waking up," Wiesława softly informed someone. I opened myeyes. They had dragged me back into Havenstone's lobby, cradled me as theybrought me up to Medical, then hung around, in case I died and the SD wanted totalk to them. I was admittedly curious if the 'a pigeon did it' would mollifyElsa. "Did I kill it?" I muttered as they put me down, feet first. Iwobbled. Concussions do that to a guy. "Who? I didn't see anyone attack you?" Wiesława lookedconcerned. "The pigeon? The one who hit me. Is it dead?" I groaned. "Oh, yes, Cáel Ishara. It will no longer menace any of our sisters. Yourthick skull did it in," she joked. That eased the feelings of the securitychicks around me. Unlike the medicos, they weren't privileged to know my MatronGoddess's preferred means of communication, bludgeoning me intounconsciousness. "How long have I been out?" I mumbled. My cranium was throbbing inpain as I sat up. 'Hey! I was in Medical and still had my clothes on. Was Ilosing my touch?'
"It is 1:15,Wakko," Wiesława informed me. I groaned as my feet swung off thegurney. "I have to play Barabbas in the mouth of a whale converted into a lion'sden in 45 minutes and I need a few things from home," I mumbled. I wouldhave assumed a commanding demeanor, except my inner ear was debating calling insick for the rest of the day. "So, what did she have to say?" Pamela stepped into view. It was hardto describe my pride and my joy when I saw Chaz right behind her, fully armed,inside Havenstone with his scrotum still doing what natured designed it for. "The Bitch stole two extra cookies," I gripped. "As for therest, chastisement for thinking my opinion mattered, me telling her to back thefuck up, we are not married yet, then the normal bit of useless informationthat I'm sure will make sense, somewhere around the third 5th of Whiskey." "Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to rain onmy parade until 2?" "Not sure, Chaz?" Pamela. "Nothing special, Mr. Nyilas," Chaz glowered. Uh oh. Mr. Nyilas. Notgood. "We figured we'd join your regular lunch crowd," Pamela nudged Chazgiving him a physical 'atta boy. "Buffy gave us a message," Chaz retained his'I'm your olderbrother and since Dad isn't around to kick your ass over doing somethingstupid, I'm doing it for him'look. I had to admit, that look waspretty new to me. Most men didn't want to be remotely associated with megenetically after getting to know me and my fidelity, or lack thereof. "Hey now," I protested as I wove my way out the door to the elevator.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Hana shines and Aya rises.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.
“It isselfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point youwill be asked to earn it.”
My equilibrium decidedto cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is onlyme, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy, hi Juanita," I hadn't spotted mydesignated bodyguard standing behind Chaz. "Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious withyou." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy. "Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added tothe regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not afucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company,"Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff. "Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have achild," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with twoAmazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past tenminutes. "You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz drylyremarked. "I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom,Deidre and Imogen, plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out theTitanic. "Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamelasmiled at her two grandsons. "Cáel, are you going to tell your fianc "Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garnerme enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing herdrink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned. I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armedFBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox (did you know when a Federal Agent adds'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?) stood next to my chariot.She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of drivingtoday. I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Hertraining involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course fromthe FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well aswhatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced. Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind thosescholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon')legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successfulsocial instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectfulmanner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on theoriginal horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform. Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (akaneed to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortunecookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store.As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel offolks come down toward us from the fourth level. I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamelaeach went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in theirjackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could firethrough the stairs from beneath. Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the S U V becausesending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefightdid break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up whileVirginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself. Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women,early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. Afew looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, withno obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance.Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing. "Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fieryred-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles.Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelicduring orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other loveinterests? She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with abelly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans andsoft leather calf-boots. "Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering anall-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering. "How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still bealive?" was Chaz's spin on things. "We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where yousuffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemmingstampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled toPluto because the Sun was too good for you." 9, 10, 11 --12 of them looking, 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded meof my fianc Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in toregale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of mybedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so, now I recalled; that particularexcuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspiciouscome calling. I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered, abit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment,so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangementhad been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment atHavenstone. I'd neglected, telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd finda way to make it up to him later. "Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off bythe Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident. "These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Searesorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in theNorthern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since, that wouldbe the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years." "Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidaecatastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using aBortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending myashes to Pluto," I explained. Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway, theowner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so,The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and madein Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km, which would leave me crash landinginto the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, renderingme and my voles so much frozen food. "You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped.Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights. "Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don'twant my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth'sendangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because wesuddenly feel bad about neglecting it." "E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her whyshe knew Maori later, right after I figured why Grandpa knew it. "Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused. "I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones.It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them. "You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leadersighed. "Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides,Ba ch "Sa ch "Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van b "Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of mypersonal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid Idon't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date withmy fianc "We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned onesmiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve ofthese girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight andthe last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the LacrosseFinals. "What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted. "We are the (Irish) 'Na conairte soith an Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'theBitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea). "You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irishchoice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technicallymade them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was goingto figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her. "You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" Inearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back. "Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'FirstPerson Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants whojoined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession! "Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience atall? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?" "Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let youdown." "You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?"Chaz sent me a chilling look. "Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?"floated around. "Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker'human suit to trick the masses." "Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up. By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their nativecountries, then left after their first term because they found military life tobe boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and sixof the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy wasgoing to kill them, all twelve at once by herself. "I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm astone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will showup at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms andthen warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, weare going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you willwrite this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet arefoolish in practice. Do you accept?" "How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and yourCrusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked. "All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quiteextensive." "You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of theTurks blinked in disbelief. "Yes. I am not disrespecting you, any of you. You've shown initiative,courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable andworthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also tellingyou is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat insingle combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm onlysaying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."
Their eyes flickered toPamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, orappear harmless, as she wished. "Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriorsand in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostileindividuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations." "The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three peoplewho could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree,Chaz?" "Absolutely," he concurred. "We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smileand cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood. "You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting herin the ass, not me. Yay? "You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz.That was Welsh, and meant Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow, I imagined hissuperiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us, himbeing a 'secret military operator', emphasis on the 'secret'. "And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girlpointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret SpyPamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone backto the origin of the name of Pamela, a fictitious 17th English novelistcreation using mangled Hellenic, which translated as 'all-honey'. 'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah, those twelve hadcombed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was andwho Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when wewere all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSHagent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me, the unspoken 'sidekick' thing. (For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', itreally existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foilfor James Bond.)
"Chaz,since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, wemust insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments, in person. Iwant to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who hadthrown himself between me and an explosive vest, probably out of some psychicimpulse that I would suffer far, far worse later, like in today, within lessthan 24 hours of said act. "Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned. "Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out. "We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me. "Oh yeah, fortune cookies," I mumbled. "Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many ofthem are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of theHungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitteraccount. Odette, she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, butI had a feeling that was fading fast. "Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on thethird floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back. "What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" toChaz, then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught. "I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting withsome really shady characters and my fianc "Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to lovethat," "And then," Pamela continued. "She is going to want a gun," I groaned. Oh goddess! No! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'. "No, I have not," Chaz corrected me, about my mental ruminations. "I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my newprospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards, "Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and"Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?" "Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have sixmodels," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten timesa day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks forfood, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is sodamn fun." While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed(as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring offthe sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incrediblyhappy smile. "Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?" I wanted to cry. (A Family FUNction, minus the 'fun' part) My fianc My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hookup soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combowith a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, ifyou can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me. Brooke had joined the lunch group, sharing a smile and wink with Libra with thesecret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this, hmm, lunch breakFriday, yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks, minusthe shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure. Hana was a saint for putting up with those two, and me. Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for therest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. Asfor the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel m The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they allhad different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable'attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in thesame style as Hana. I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for whatshe assumed would be my support network, Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesławaand Juanita, plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. Thatmade me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, ifnot comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurantthis exclusive. Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcanoon the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged. "Chaz, Pamela, explain," Buffy seethed. "I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back,"Sweet-Cheeks." "They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation andassistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sinceremanner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his'inner- Cáel'. "I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from fourEuropean nations," he nodded. Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns, Ithought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to nothave seen it coming. "What?" Oili gasped. "Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me. "Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throwa, shrimp at Oili?" "It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "HadOili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect theitem with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do allthe time. It is pretty neat to watch." "Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in caseanother decapod was coming her way. "You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison onit," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you.She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odettean 'atta girl' high five. "Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "Whathaveyoubeen up to?" "Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit,Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These finewomen have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be mybodyguards," I made the introductions. "They have volunteered to be, basically the 'Hounds of PrinceO'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fianc Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy leta smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazonlanguage = my Mountaintop. "I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offeredme drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces. "Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured. "Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my lifeand I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distractingbullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think youare yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted andsoft-headed." "I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie, her only'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel’s safety. You should invokewhatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well,because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I willexercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay." "Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette. "That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way. "Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down. "Until ten seconds ago, Yes. Now I want to hand you over to thesetwo," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork. "Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requestedunderstanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. Allwe are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you." "ToUs," Buffy snapped. "Cáel’s vote doesn'tcount." "Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and yourlack of trust is pissing me off." "Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out ofsight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failedto take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to behonest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Color Sergeant wouldn't have letthem come here, or near Odette." If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'dmiss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch andgentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous cocking) Icould have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was agoodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?
"Marryingyou is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooketeased me. Normally only dead people were made saints. "A Servant of, probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table canagree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her jokingwell. "Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered overthe women of note (the women at the main table). "Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had beenCatholic? "Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, Iwas given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social levelbetween myself and my fianc Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. Awaiter slipped in, took my order, I decided to forgo an appetizer because I waslate, then the conversation began. "Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my familyfrom Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. Iwas buying time to get a better read on the women around me. "I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion. "Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed. "Wow, I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely couldmeet Hana's eyes. "I am pregnant with your fianc "You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid heranger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate herfeeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute atconcealing their surprise. "She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of ablatant Imogen, or a pained Hana. "No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile.It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. WhateverImogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does havea child inside her, Havenstone verified it and will have the precise geneticmake-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying). "If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who playedupon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he wasseven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as hewitnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy becausethe people who were hunting me down, the two O'Shea before you and the nine whoaren't here, would have used numerous means of torture to verify mydeath." (Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun) "My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. Itwas too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. Helearned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this tableknows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well." "Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick tomy son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How couldthis not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman whohas already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of hisown maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?" "Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you, or I. By all means, makea mockery of my son, your nephew, who has pledged to fight for your life whenhe should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of youyet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness." "There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of hereintact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty,"she threatened. "Ten?" Brooke whispered. "The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with,Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing hischild take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her. "No." "The Six?" Libra scanned the room. "My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. Theywon't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jumpstraight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz,Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal." "We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with thatproclamation. "No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me. "Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staffwill only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and therest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck soyour best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal withthings," Mom clarified. "Brooke, Libra, this is awacko chicks with gunsmoment,"I put things in perspective. "Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder. "Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for coverand not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. SorrySibeal, but I don't know you that well yet." "I understand," Mom agreed. To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model)and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When themaytre dee tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entireextended family with a look alone. Been there, done that, and the maytre deewas nowhere close to being in my league. I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been herebefore I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her overConstanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would stillshow up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain. It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in anexposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level ofresponse. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do'non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha. Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her teamcould keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons werepaying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing herhow to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances. "Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known wasGranddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If therewas a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it. "Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll." "That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he hasalways been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations ofdead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans todestroymyCáel." "I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have.He's a handful and reminds you of your Father, the mass-murdering rapist. AndImogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part ofyour circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I counta person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there isValor, there is Hope and my fianc "Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equatesto being a threat," Deidre countered. "Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me. "Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hanahas to win, or lose, on her own." "Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people,Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some pettybullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenancemade a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous. "That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are asdysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat oneanother as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?" "You?" Deidre soothed me. "No. Ferko Nyilas', my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taughtme to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control overour lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-assbitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I carefor you." "I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all ofyou know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, Iwill always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold youresponsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and itisn't over yet."
If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on themats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warriorculture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on theline. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without,weapons.
"We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting overthe physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten.
"My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training.Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons aswell as hand-to-hand combat techniques."
"Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements,and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough', youbegin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such asclose-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefieldmedicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and'training' expertise."
"In my current team, the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania,all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five,each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. Theleader had eleven years in."
"Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specificmindset. What you need to do is think why youshouldn'tkillsomeone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate,someone close to you might be killed, not just me."
"Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions,you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxistake you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicatingyourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet."
"You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group,to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at myside. Go, take a rest, talk it over, search your souls. Call me if any of youwant to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?"
"Do the other women around you do this, make those choices?" one ofthe Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw.
"No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never toreturn. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to,before they are even considered for the task."
"Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. Youwould never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every wayexcept spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offersresonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path youare taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are ofaccomplishing your goals."
"I, I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses.
"At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel,Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead,or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded.
"One of the three was killed, a head shot, and the remainder left her bodywhere she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had toprotect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me isexceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.
No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes Iwas picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified.
"Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeveand Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel’s guests to the lobby." Anew pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods sheinteracted with.
I have taken a few mystic liberties:
Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.
Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and theSilent Huntress.
As for the other new hires:
Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex,War and Slaughter)
Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)
Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beautyand Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.
Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother, Guardian of the LionThrone)}
They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answerto their current predicament, learning your romantic adventure was actually agory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had beengathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps evenunderstanding, of my actions.
Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helenacajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left.Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-publicsetting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.
For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were notclose enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them tobe in New York on this night.
"Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance fromour Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly,calling the meeting to order.
I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, whenthe struggle began.
"Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointedout the three 'new hires' who were sticking around.
"Memasant (Amazon forto speak true)," I answered her.Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before themeeting began, I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects thesethree for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach itto others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in ournative tongue."
"I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, weare not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. Wearen't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have tobe kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Hostneeds."
"We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige ofour sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it, who cares? None of themhave made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not allgathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?"
"Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out ina ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down.
"Put forth your complaint," I responded.
"You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take thetime to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sistersto advance your own prestige."
"Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies."
"Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operationsof our House."
"Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side ofme. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew Iwould have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host."
"Buffy, are you challenging me?"
"No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me.She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thusher.
"Helena, are you challenging me?"
"No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangersyou constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equallyhostile tone.
"Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept anychallenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to putyour own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over oneanother for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.
It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored.Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter.
"Cool beans," I nodded.
I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I hadpre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandishedtwo weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of myopponents muttered in confusion and resentment.
"Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilitiesnever had then," Madori protested.
"Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls topick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, DaphneCotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise.
"Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madoriglowered. "Cheating, utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equalityand justice?"
"No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyesnarrowed. "How about this, call the Amazon's contact with the Earth &Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue aHouse obligation?"
"You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head andactually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen ashort spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?
"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled.
"Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not theGoddess of," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust.I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spearenough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my leftaxe on her shoulder, blade against her throat.
"Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance'bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such peopleweren't crybabies. "Next."
Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situationwas she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. Ireadied myself.
"I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" sheput out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes.
"I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me'written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She putthe point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close tomy kidney.
"Yield."
"Never."
"Yield, or I will kill you."
I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist andslammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with bothof us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shieldtrapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.
I stood up, blood oozing down my side.
"Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three moreAmazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashedwater down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness.
"Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and allof our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refusedto yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when youclearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest ofarms."
Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous,outsider woman.
"I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne, don't you darestand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for yourdisrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would showboth of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People, learn. Learnand keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn,don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success untilyou take yourself to the cliffs."
One of the two newest challengers was prepping her rush. I drew my other two axes.
"Wait your turn," I pointed an axe her way. "The rest of you,you planned this meeting so you could overcome your disgust and condemnationover having a male be in charge of House Ishara. Don't bother lying to me, oreach other."
"Your crappy performance is utterly irrelevant?" the challengershowered me with hate. As I have previously noted, telling a woman that she isclearly delusional by pointing out her delusions is rarely accepted in apositive manner.
"Have it your way. The sheer stupidity of your actions speaks foritself."
She moved forward. Much like Arianne, her tactic was to close in enough to turnthis into an unarmed martial contest. I didn't know her name, yet could tellshe hadn't joined House Ishara via her spectacular battlefield performance. Shewas undoubtedly bright, diligent and absolutely top notch at whatever postHavenstone had placed her in. Lecture time.
"Here begins the lesson," I danced away from her initial rush."If you believe that I am nothing more than a prophetic hiccup in Amazonmysticism and not the true heir of Yakko Ishara, please raise your hand" Isaid to the room at large. Few did.
"Liars," I mocked them. I batted a few more of her attacks aside.
"Having refused to accept the window-dressing of my heritage, you havedecided I am nothing more than a fortuitous aberration you are using for yourown personal advantage. That is the only logical assertion that takes intoaccount all the events of tonight," I kept lecturing them. "And youcouldn't be more wrong."
"Stand still, damn you," my latest opponent hissed. I slipped rightwhen I should have twisted left. I dropped the back of my axe-head on the topof her skull, dropping her like a puppet with its strings cut. The next onehopped up. Buffy's animalistic rumblings of pure rage were clearly audible.This one was going with the long spear and it looked like she had some talent.She was no Elsa and for this, she needed to be.
"Put your spear down and accept my judgement," I made eye contactwith the newcomer.
"Why?'
"I'm not going to tell you. Go with your gut," I advised. I could seeher weigh her options. She surprised me by placing her spear down andretreating from the mat.
"Why did you do that?" the woman next to her snapped quietly.
"I don't know," the latest challenger furrowed her brow.
"You did it because we have all been here before," I filled in theanswer. "You were never Runners. Had you been alien to the Amazons, youwould have faced the same fate as Alicia at my Father's gravesite."
"She was rejected by Ishara, not me. Ask any of the other twenty-one whowere present. I burned my damn finger trying to get Ishara to take her in. Itdidn't happen. I've been thinking about that for the past few months. I think Inow know why it happened." Miraculously, I had their attention.
"You never joined House Ishara," I scanned the whole assembly."House Ishara found you. Generations ago you should have joined HouseIshara except the gates had been closed. Your ancestors couldn't reach out toyou because their mortal kin had perished without heirs. For fifteen hundredyears, Isharans have been born, lived and passed on because no one was aroundto open your eyes to your place in the world."
"I am absolutely positive every one of you has fought, struggled and bledto be in this room, listening to my diatribe. So did Alicia. For those who knowher, do you think she was lesser than you by any metric?" I let that sinkin. Those who knew Alicia were mulling my words over. Those who didn't werestudying the ones who did.
"Please examine your hearts and give me a reason why she and hundreds ofequally qualified Runners are not here, and you are? Have you won a game ofTexas hold 'em? The Pick-5? Do you think your other sisters drew your name outof hat, threw darts at a dart board, or did a random inner-house personnelsearch?"
"I'm waiting for someone to tell me I'm a nut, insane, or just plainwrong."
Nothing.
"You are here because you were born Isharans, grew up under Dot-Ishara'scruel tutelage and fortuitously lived in a time when the doors to our Ancestorswere finally reopened."
"Former Runners?There, is, no, such, thing!You havealways been Isharans. And only now is the rest of creation becoming aware ofit," I stated in a clear, decisive voice. Kimberly insisted I take thatcourse in Public Speaking so I could recite the words of long-dead kings in anauthoritative voice. It was paying an unpredicted dividend now.
Except for the 3 non-Isharans, everyone in this room grew up in a scientific,predictable world. If any of them participated in a religion, they didn'texpect any reaction to their worship. Faith was a word to whitewash theunknown. Havenstone had made no effort to dispel that way of thinking.
Yes, they knew they were living on the periphery of a 3,000 year old feudagainst male-kind. When given the decision to either believe 1.) there werethousands and thousands of ancestors and fifty-plus goddesses watching overthem, or 2.) they belonged to a cult with a seriously weird backstory, they chosethe 'reasonable' explanation.
It wasn't like the membership in that worship system were reaching out toembrace new members. The faith the full-Blooded Amazons had was part of theirmistress's uniqueness they shared with one another while excluding their new'sisters'. Such an infinitesimal number of Runners had been embraced by thefaith, so what else were they supposed to believe in?
Only now, they were being asked to embrace without question what allFull-Blooded took for granted. Mysticism was integral to Amazon life. They knewtheir Ancestors were watching over them. They knew their Matron Goddessesprepared an Afterlife for them. They lived and died with iron-clad faith inthat. They taught it to their daughters, who passed it on to their children.This process went back 150 generations.
"Do you, do you really speak to the Goddess Ishara?" Madori asked,twisting her logical mind about the conundrum of my words: 'why her and notAlicia'? What had Alicia done wrong? Until I spoke on the matter, she hadshoved such worry to the back of her mind. She was in a First House, which wasthe new center of her existence.
"Yes," I replied. I bit down on trying to insert a joke into thisseriously spiritual moment.
"What does she tell you?" Madori uttered the words, but they wereechoed in the face of every Isharan in the room.
"The messages vary. I have vomited out more blood in one session than Ihave in my entire body, ask Buffy. I have been told to sleep with an Augur.Later she, Dot Ishara, told me Tadfi,the Augur, was going to die in premature childbirth and there was not a damnthing I could do about it. 'Why' I had to put an Isharan heir in Tadfi has not beenexplained to me and probably never will."
"She likes fortune cookies. She is jealous of the Goddess SzelAnya becausethat goddess has saved my life, twice. Dot Ishara has also intervened to savemy life too. Of greater importance to me, she has spared Aya Epona when Ibegged for her help," I kept going. I had their rapt attention now.
What I was saying you couldn't put into a handbook, or normally pass from theuninitiated to the uninitiated.
"I have hated her for some of the misery I have committed at her request.I have served her without explanation because I acknowledgeI amIshara, Wakko Ishara, and this is what we Amazons do, fight for our MatronGoddesses."
"Our reward is painand suffering. It is daughters and sisterhood. It is raising our young andtaking comfort and giving comfort on the night before we take ourselves to thecliffs when our time comes. All our sisters who have passed before us arewaiting to take us to our true home." "No matter what else happens to us, we will never be alone again. In thislife and the next, we are bound by more than blood and oaths. We are bound by acommon destiny and a unifying goal. That goal is the Will of Ishara. "And that is why you anger me so tonight. Not one of you has suggested Ihave not been true to Dot-Ishara, to Yakko-Ishara and to every Isharan who isand has ever been." "A proper challenge is made when your House Head has betrayed your Houseand/or the Host." "You challenge them after you have set forth your grievances and yourHouse Head has failed to successfully address them. "Instead, why are you any of you challenging me?" I glared mydispleasure over them. "Don't answer that. Don't bother. We all know it isbecause I have a cock. Not one of you has challenged the legitimacy of mybloodline. Not one charge of treason has been leveled against me." "By the Goddess!" I thundered. "Who here doesn't know what I dofor the Host on a day to day basis? If you don't know, have you ever consideredasking someone who might? Despite the disrespect you have shown me and theGoddess, have I ever challenged any of your selection for joining in a House Ilead?" "Of course not. I serve Ishara, as should you all. I have shown all of youabsolute faith and honest solidarity. Tonight, you have let me, your sister,down. I desperately need your support, your comfort and your trust. To rewardmy efforts in doing a job I was unprepared for, yet couldn't deny, you haveshowered me with your hate. Good night." I stalked off the mat, retrieving my dropped axes. I set the four weapons intheir hooks on the wall then headed for the exit. Pamela had taught me you tendto your weapons before you tend to your life. "Ishara," Madori called out. I kept walking. "WakkoIshara," she called out again. I stopped, looked over my shoulder and gaveher a blank face. "I had not thought this through. I apologize," she lowered her head.Around her others nodded. "I don't care," I glowered. "I don't want your words. I wantdeeds. I don't want your respect. It is not something I find any value in rightnow. "I don't want your comfort. You have denied me solidarity when I sodesperately need it. I trusted you all implicitly. You were the Chosen ofIshara, named by your sisters as worthy, who had never let me down before. Now?All of you need to work on regaining my trust. Until you do, until you do, Iwill accept every challenge. And I promise you I will let your ghost explain tothe Goddess and our Ancestors your treachery. Bye." A Moment with Hana "Cáel?" Hana touched my chin, indicating she wanted eye contact. "Yes?" I obliged. Her naked body lying next to mine was pleasurableand warm. The scent of our sexual coupling remained a happy reminder that wehad shared our hunger and passion. "Normally when we are together, I know I am the totality of your world. Ihave never felt your mind was elsewhere. Tonight, I know you have been diligentand caring, yet I know a part of your mind is devoted to something besides oursex and your complete attention to my body and needs. Can I help?" sheworried. "Hmm, success has robbed me of many of my primal fears and forced me tothink about my future beyond my next weekend, next planned vacation, or who Imight meet at a club/bar/walking down the sidewalk," I worked through mycerebral confusions. "When I started at Havenstone, I mostly feared for my life," Iquickly put a finger to her lips. "I'll explain one day, but not tonight.But one morning shortly before we met, I was staring down my eminent demise,only to have my life turned a full 180. I suddenly had family, friends and an extendedfamily to consider. I wanted none of that." "You grew up, Cáel," she stroked my stubbly chin. "You aretrying to grow up. I understand this will be a harder struggle than you canexplain right now, until our children become teenagers." "That's mean," I joked. "I've actively and systemically resistedbeing a responsible adult since I discovered what being an adultentailed," I insisted. "I accept that. I also accept when we are in a room together, your eyesalways come back to me. I know you see the sensuality in other women, yet youhave never betrayed me. I really, truly appreciate it. I do." She smiled.I smiled. "That is not a license to cheat," she curtailed my constantsubroutine of thought. "Tell me what bothers you and I'll give you a big reward," shewiggled against my hip. Yay! I'm a simple guy. "My 'department' tried to demote me a few hours ago. I got pissy andsmacked them down for something that wasn't really their fault. I've picked upsome bizarre knowledge that is difficult for sane people to accept." "I told those ladies they had to re-earn my trust. I am wondering if I wastoo harsh on them," I mused. "What does Buffy think?" she asked. That was a bit odd. "She wants to toss a few of them into a 777's engine, while it is running,"I confessed. "Go with her judgement, Cáel," she consoled me. "She scares me.She also loves you more than life itself. I'll deal with her possessiveness aswe learn to time-share you." Time-share? What the fuck! "No." "Yes," she pouted. "I'm coming to accept you can't bemonogamous. I would like you to keep me first in your life. Do you think youcan do that?" "I," I gave it some serious thought. I wouldn't have to totally forgoother romantic liaisons. This was probably the best deal I'd get outsidedivorce court. "Okay. I now have a goal to work for, keeping youhappy." "I love you, Cáel. You don't have to respond. I want you to know how Ifeel. You deserve to know; and I want to be honest with my emotions concerningyou," she sighed. "Thank you. This means a lot to me, your honesty," I exhale. She'dhelped me burn off a good chunk of my anxiety. "So," I stroked her hair. "You mentioned a reward, or two?"I was thinking about pressing her bodily against her huge glass windowoverlooking the city while I took her vigorously from behind. Then I could turnher around and warm up those cold nipples with my mouth and tongue. "Yes," she purred, clearly delving into the depths of my passion."Dad has agreed to take me down the aisle," she worked her way on topof me, "and I'm pregnant." Had Hana not been on top of me and definitely in need, I would have gotten outof bed and repeatedly slammed my cock in a door. (Me) 'Dude, not wearing a condom is not an invitation to paternity!' (The Other Me) 'Suck it up, Upper Head. A cock's got to do what a cock's got todo.' (M) 'Bitch!' (TOM) 'Hehehehe, happy Father's Day, Playboy.' (M) 'Fuck you!' (TOM) 'Speaking of which, fucking is what I'm trying to do. Get with the GamePlan.' "What is going on in your mind, Cáel?" Hana teased me. "I'm having a conversation with my cock," I groused. "Andlosing." "Let him play," she showered me with understanding and acceptance."I'm safe now; let him play." Hana was straddling me. 'He' throbbed."See, he's willing to make up and play nice." No, he was not out to play nice. Not now and not ever. Dick! Dishonor, Rebirth, and the sacrifices made for both. (and that big time jump.) I had to remind myself Amazons came before the advent of the seven-day calendarand they determined their religious celebrations by stellar alignments, not byany specific date. Thus an early Sunday morning formal council session wasn't acommon occurrence, but neither was it totally surprising. Krasimira had requested a full meeting of the Amazon Council. House Ishara wasmarked by three oddities: my maleness, my personal appearance (Krasimirainsisted for no given reason, i.e. standard operating procedure, and on theinclusion of the fourth member now wedged in around House Ishara's place at thetable (Buffy, Daphne (Buffy still needed a translator), Juanita (as a member ofthe House Isharan House Guard) now included myself). The first surprise for me, and most of the Council, was the replacement ofArwen by Desiree at House Epona's place. The shockwaves of Hayden's passing hadmost likely allowed Katrina to do some reshuffling in House Epona as well. Theonly person who was 'late' was Elsa, who still hadn't shown up as the meetingbegan. Her attendance was purely ceremonial anyway. The Apprentices began the Prayer of the Ancestors. I did my part towards theend, the First House Apprentices begin the song (Buffy did her best) and theHouse Heads of First Houses finish it. Since the Council still hadn't created aRegency Council, it fell to the Golden Mare to get down to business. "Krasimira, you have requested this meeting," she stood and regardedthe woman across the empty High Priestess' chair. Krasimira motioned for herguardian to go get 'something'. Apparently that 'something' was waiting rightoutside the door, because all the guardian had to do was open it and poke herhead outside. She held the door open for six individuals to file in. First was Elsa, who waslooking more gorgeous, vigilant and lethal than normal. Behind her came anotherone of Krasimira' people holding a 20" diameter, shallow copper bowl bythe handles. I could barely make out the glowing embers it contained. Third, hobbling in with a cane, her face a mask of sorrow, pain and fatalism,was Kwenhamai aka Death Song. At her side, supporting her as best she could wasAya. Behind those two were two more of Krasimira's guardians. The place didn'texplode because no one in the room except Katrina, me and (I assumed) Krasimirarecognized Kwen by face. Often the supernatural does not appear spectacular.This is a moment when the whole council became a witness to a manifestation ofthe weave’s power. Kwen is not an immortal, but she was born before Rome ruledthe world. Elsa took a warding position between Saint Marie and Kwen, which drew a curiousexpression from the Golden Mare. Behind Elsa was Aya. Kwen was beside Aya andtwo guardians were in a warding position between Kwen and the rest of theCouncil. The bowl-holder (now bowl-less) stood behind Krasimira as did theguardian she had started with. Kwen took a deep breath. She scanned the sea of curious faces, finally settlingon mine. I tried not to cry and failed. I nodded to her and she did to me. "Few of you here know me. I am Kwenhamai," she began her path and thetone of the room immediately turned ugly. Krasimira stood rapidly and smackedher palm on the table so loudly I knew it had to hurt. Her action made theoutrage of the other 51 become stillborn. "I am Dumalugal (Princess) Kwenhamai, niece of "Esharsanh"(Antiope) and daughter of "Hueksanhbizahhāi" (Penthesilea), of"Munuskappilāibihur" (Orithyia) descendent of"Kururiyahhssi" (Antianeira), first queen of the Amazon {thebracketed phrases are the Greek versions of the Amazons' names}. I am theoldest member of my House," she continued and I believe few caught the'oldest' bit. Her recitation was her lineage, thus her right to rule. The last plunge, "This is my duma (daughter) and Iwaruwa (heir), Aya of Kururiyahhssi ('shewho rebels)." A pregnant pause seized the room. 'A life for a life'. That was what Pamela had told me, her curse. What if that had been aimed at me, not her? Maybe her burden was to see methrough to this point.Think of Aya and know she deserves to grow up tobe an Amazon, just like you. Give her the freedom to do so.' Where there is Valor, there is Hopeyetwhere there isHope, there can be Valortoo. Greatness should be measured by the lives you save, not those you take. Whenthe time, Aya. Pamela had given me life, I had given Kwenhamai her life on the battlefield andnow she was giving Aya a life I could never provide for her, greatnessshould be measured by the lives you save. That was not the Amazon way, yetit could be. I had no clue what to do, so I went with my instincts. At thisjuncture, we had all been rendered powerless, by hatred and by our unforgivingnature. "I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi," I declared as I slammed my palm down onthe table. I was robbed of the added dramatic flair of standing up abruptlysince I had to stand because I had promised to never sit in their presence. Toadd to the tragic play laid before us, I could barely see Aya. The table washigh. All I could see was the top of her shoulders and her head. "I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi," came from an unexpected direction. Itwas Kohar of Marda, standing, speaking and slamming her hand down on the table.Next, five seconds later, Fatima's successor echoed the proclamation. Thevoices cascaded together after that. The last House Head to add her affirmationwas Katrina. She was losing a breeding female of her house. I think the weight of the burdenfalling on those small shoulders was an even harder emotion for her to dealwith. Once more, she sacrificed Aya for the good of all Amazons. There wereonly two people left, Saint Marie and Krasimira. Saint Marie walked over to the two Royals then touched Elsa on the upper arm.When Elsa stepped aside, the Golden Mare looked down at Aya and, with a slightbow of the head, "I see Aya of Kururiyahhssi." "The birth of Aya of Kururiyahhssi shall be recorded in the Rolls of theHost," was Krasimira's spin on things. After all, neither hers nor theGolden Mare's vote mattered in this decision, not legally. Saint Marie's vote was a symbolic representation of all members of the SecurityDetail who stood outside the House system. Kwen swayed slightly as she drewforth her small Amazon blade then extended a lock of her hair. "No," Aya whispered desperately. Kwen shot her a grim smile. "They are your people now," she replied softly. "With you, Ihave restored our bloodline's honor. Now I must meet my end, and my sins,alone." With that, she sheared off a length of hair, "I will takemyself to the cliffs, without a lineage and nameless." She dropped herhair into the coals which popped and crackled as they devoured their offering.Three of us were crying, me, Aya and Buffy. Alone, Kwen shuffled painfully to the door. No one would help her. "Kwenhamai," Saint Marie proclaimed in a loud, clear voice. "Youare forbidden to take yourself to the cliffs." Kwen turned toward us, herface ashen. She couldn't even die in the traditions of her people, a finalcrushing blow. "At this time we all must seek permission to take ourselves to the cliffs,"Saint Marie finished. "The Host is at war and we need every set of eyes,hands and feet. No one, full-blooded or Runner, may seek out our ancestors, orpurposely end our lives. What reason do you give for seeking permission to endyour existence?" "I would prefer an honorable death," she replied sadly. "I have been told you fight well, your wounds are not permanentlycrippling and I see no indication that you have lost the spirit to fight. Yourrequest is rejected. Go to Medical. I will inform Rayen Artio so she mayallocate your abilities in a manner which provides maximum benefit for theHost. You do not belong in these chambers. Leave." This time, one of the SD ladies went to her side and helped her leave. Sincethat worthy didn't immediately return, I hoped she took Kwen up to Medical.Inside, events continued to unfold. Saint Marie was about a foot from Aya andthe height difference was comical. "Is there anything you need?" she looked down at Aya. It was clear tome both women (titan and pixie) were trying to catch up with unexpected events. "What do you suggest?" Aya asked. "I would like it if you toldme," she rapidly added. "Perhaps I should assign you some bodyguards and tutors," Saint Mariesuggested. The rest of us were standing around uselessly. Saint Marie was incharge and helping out Aya had been added to her long list of duties she neededto perform. "Oh, I would like two bodyguards chosen from two different First Houses,plus one House Amazon from each continent. To those, I would like to add anequal number of Runners." "So, you have thought this out?" Saint Marie shot me and Katrina anevil look. "Oh no!" Aya shook her head. "I'm as much surprised aboutKwenhamai's actions and departure as you are. I really wanted her to hang aroundfor several more years, at least a decade. Fortunately, my Atta has taught meall Amazons must think on their feet and take advantage of every opportunityand turn misfortune to an advantage." "He has taught that to you?" Saint Marie kept her voice steady. "He did so accidently ~ through my observation of him and overhearingothers discuss how he was being trained. Normally, Au, Katrina of Epona sendshim on assignments without telling him what he's supposed to do until hearrives at his destination." That was followed by a hush, then mutedamusement among the onlookers. "I will see to your bodyguard. Is there anything else?" Saint Marieremained polite. As we were all about to discover, the Golden Mare had no'Aya-experience'. "Yes. From this day forth, I want all male babies turned over to the RoyalHouse," she plowed on. This hush had a darker tone. "You wish to add men to your House?" Saint Marie was back to beingupset. "No," Aya shook her head. "They are men after all. I want themto be taught to be skilled servants and craftsmen. There are numerousnon-martial jobs the Host does right now that diverts our efforts from warfareand bringing more daughters into the Host." "But no warriors?" Saint Marie clarified, not only for herself, butfor the majority of the Council as well who suspected the perniciousness of meand Katrina. "In the Royal House? Not now; most likely not for several generations. Ilove Cáel Ishara with all my heart, he is my mamētu me Sighs of relief (Aya wasn't poisoned withextremistbeliefs)circled the table, followed by nods of approval (Aya wasone ofthem~ a pure-blooded Amazon with their traditional upbringing),fools. Unseen by the rest, Katrina and I knew this wasMamitu!~the Amazon belief that training, experience and ability allowed you to achievevictory; no 'luck' required. "I would like it if the New Directive is pursued with vigor. The grimreality is that virtually all our old male population has passed and, for thesake of genetic diversity, we need to rejuvenate our bloodlines with malesstrong in mind, body and spirit." "Is there, I hear the wisdom in your words, Dumalugal," Saint Mariehad reversed directions emotionally and was starting to take her princess veryseriously. As Katrina and I knew, Aya was super-bright; an Amazon of Legendinside a tiny frame. "I would like it if my bodyguard served the Royal House for ten years atwhich time they will return to their native House. Runners will resume beingRunners unless they are adopted into a House." "I would like it if the First Directive was pursued with greater vigor aswell," she piped up. "If the rest of the Houses don't get their actstogether, House of Ishara is going to pick up all the superlative ones. I don'tthink anyone in this room, except Cáel, Buffy and Daphne, wants to see a HouseIshara with 1,000 sisters." "A thousand Runners are still the equivalent of a thousand formers Runnerswith the name Ishara attached," Messina murmured. I wasn't sure if I wouldbe able to stop Buffy, mainly because I wanted to jump down Messina's throatfirst. "May I address the Council, Golden Mare?" Aya maintained her illusionof subordination. This was a brilliant Aya actively assuring the Council thatshe had no intention of becoming Queen anytime soon.
"Let me considerit, Dumalugal," Saint Marie leaned up to look at me (?). Aya's hand sprangup over her head mimicking the action of a student seeking attention. SaintMarie's eyes flickered down to Aya. "House Ishara, how do you wish to handle that insult?" she addressedme. "Insult?" I pretended to be surprised. "Messina behaving in ablindingly infantile manner is something we both expect and pity. If she," "How dare you?" Messina simmered. "If she knew anything about the workings of House Ishara, the sisters ofHouse Ishara, or Runners in general, then her babblings might have somevalue," I continued. "She doesn't, so we ignore her as we wouldignore any outburst from an un-casted." "Blood feud," Messina stood up and snarled. Aya was bouncing up anddown. "Yes, Dumalugal?" Saint Marie withheld her reaction in order to seewhat the princess wanted. "Please, would you call me Aya? Being Dumalugal scares me enough withoutalways being reminded about it. Also, I would like to avoid any blood feudswhile the Host is locked in such a vital struggle." "I would like it if five members of House Minerva and House Ishara battledeach other in a melee to settle this manner. If House Minerva wins, Cáel Isharashould be compelled to make a public apology at the next Council meeting forrudely refusing to acknowledge the opinion of another Head of House." "If House Minerva fails, then Messina of Minerva will forever forgoconveying any insult concerning Runners and former-Runners. Do you think thatwould be a fair decision?" "You are very dangerous," Saint Marie stated loud enough to beclearly heard to everyone. "Our enemies should tremble as the yearsdiminish until your coronation." "I plan to learn from the very best," Aya punctuated this by reachingout and putting her small hand in Saint Marie's. In that instant, Saint Mariewas whisked back to the years when her own daughter was Aya's size. "The Host will do it's very best to prepare you for the duties you willhave to take up when the time comes," she promised in a much kinder voice.Go Aya! "I am waiting for the next 'I would like'," the Golden Mareadded. "I would like Shawnee of House Arinniti, Rhada of House Meenakshi andBuffy of House Ishara to consent to being the three members of theRegency." "House Arinniti is an established First House and Shawnee provides thegravitas, wisdom and experience of a House Head." "Rhada is from a new House and brings the perspective of an Apprentice tothe process. I would like it if we considered the fact that most of ourwarriors will be closer to her age than the age of House Heads." "Buffy has the most experience dealing with Runners and will serve as abeacon for the Runners in the same manner the heritage of our Houses' historiesinspire 'we' fortunate enough to be raised by Amazon grandmothers, mothers,aunts and sisters does." Aya had deftly avoided the use of the term 'full-blood'. "Why don't we simply put the crown on her head now, beyond the fact itwould fall straight past her shoulders to the ground," the Head of HouseBendis remarked rather bitterly. I had to think, "Her names is Klavdiya," Buffy filled me in through clenched teeth. Aya's hand shot up again. "I would'like'to handle this one," Saint Mariesmiled down at Aya. Aya dropped her hand immediately. "Klavdiya, I havedecided your lack of close proximity to Dumalugal Aya of Kururiyahhssi hasclouded your perception of events. What you mistake as a usurpation of power isa little girl trying to avoid responsibilities beyond her experience." "That wasn't," Klavdiya stared to defend her utterance. Saint Marieheld up her hand warding the Head of House Bendis to silence. "Before you continue, pay careful attention to who her birth-auntwas." Technically, Aya had no family anymore. Kwen had exited the RoyalHouse so that the Amazons wouldn't have to deal with her treachery.
To becontinued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.
Guardian Goddess in Manhattan.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the► Podcastat Connected. "Our Princess grew up around a woman whose keen intellect we rely on toprotect us from unseen enemies," Saint Marie's voice became deeper andmore threatening. "At the age of ten, she," Saint Marie looked my wayas my hand shot up mimicking Aya's identical plea for attention. "Yes Ishara?" Saint Marie chose to acknowledge me. "She's nine." "Fine. At the age of nine, she earned an honorific, Mamētu me "She was kidnapped along with the Head of House Ishara. They tortured herby clipping off two of her digits, one at a time, then seared the damage with ablowtorch. She gave them nothing. At the end of the encounter, the two of themmanaged to defeat thirty Seven Pillar's commandos, over fifteen she disabledpersonally." "Afterkilling nearly half as many enemies as the 35 I havepersonally dispatched in my entire career, she crossed a mile and a half ofbarren rock in the midst of a Category 4 Typhoon. Cáel Ishara only helped herhalf of the way because he was engaged with the last two members of the SevenPillar's team." "I have utter confidence the madness here today, while assisted by HouseEpona and Ishara, was the brainchild of Krasimira. I say 'assisted' becauseCáel Ishara spared Kwenhamai's life on the battlefield. Katrina Epona removedKwenhamai from Romanian custody to keep her out of the hands of those whowished us harm. I was aware Kwenhamai was in New York, but not her preciselocation."
"My read on thesituation is this: "Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopther into the bloodline of thefirstAmazon." "She was not aware of Kwenhamai's plan to exit the Host in the manner shechose. I read the shock and pain in, Aya's face." "Our Princess has not given me a single order and I am the only voice heretoday that matters, I am the Golden Mare and the Council has consistentlyfailed to agree on a Regency." "Krasimira, why have you done this?" Saint Marie abruptly asked foreither a denial, or acquiescence of her perception of events. "As directed by the Ancestors, the statute of a goddess of a First Housewas recast then returned to her perpetual spot. It brought new light to a dark,sacred and painful place. In that moment I realized that for the first time innearly 3,200 years, the descendants of every Amazon gathered before the wallsof Wilusa (Troy) had been reunited." "I was troubled. Was this a portent the augurs couldn't divine? In theircouncil (the augurs) then came up with the words 'speak to our eldest'." Oh shit, the rest of the Council was racking their minds trying to figure whowas the oldest surviving Amazon. I knew for a fact they were overlooking thetwo top candidates. "I sought out the eldest Amazon alive. They claimed to not have the answerfor my worries. She had far more numerous things weighing on her mind such asher intimate demise. Though I hated sharing the same air with her, I asked herto tell me her greatest regret." "I had given up on the Amazon Race until an Amazon reminded me, throughmartial effort, valiant spirit and a kind heart, I was wrong to abandon myfaith with my people. Now I will die, unable to pass on my renewed hope becausethe one Amazon I would trust with my legacy is equally childless." "I asked her the name of this Amazon she felt was worthy of her legacy.Then I informed her she was wrong and the Amazon in question did indeed have adaughter. She asked to meet the daughter," "Last night I requested the presence of a female child residing withmembers of House Epona," the Keeper of Records looked up at the GoldenMare. "I provided neither the resident female (Caitlyn, Aya's Mother), orthe House Head with an explanation."
Since my revival,Amazons were using 'female' child a lot more often. This meant, the motheer hadnever told her daughter farewell. The true fate of Aya of Epona would neverofficially be recorded. She has been born, but never recorded as an Amazon ofher true House. "The three of us met alone. The two embraced; birth mother and daughter.The eldest of us proclaimed she saw the light of Kururiyahhssi in herdaughter's eyes. Words were exchanged. The child agreed to be adopted thendeparted. Further arrangements were made without the child's knowledge as wehave recently observed." "I testify that there is only one Amazon alive today who knows whattranspired and I will take those conversations to my grave. Does thatsuffice?" Krasimira finished. I was already regurgitating my mentalquandary with my Isharans. Was Aya really a daughter of Kururiyahhssi? "I will leave it to the others to contemplate your, bizarre actions,Krasimira," Saint Marie frowned. "As for the rest of you, Aya hasimpressed me. If she has not impressed you, I do not care. I think she isdefinitely influenced by those two," Saint Marie motioned to Katrina andme. "It is a given since Katrina was of her blood and she has risked muchin the presence of a man she calls 'Atta' and he calls 'Duma'." "Katrina is a cold, heartless snake and I am convinced she is one of thebest'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night andDeath'the Host been served by in a long, long time.” Saint Mariepaused then looked at me while she said; “ Cáel is a fool who leads with hisheart when he should let better women take charge. Fortunately for the rest ofus, he is reliably successful despite his multitude of handicaps." Was I upset about being insulted? No. The truth hurts and a Man needs to learnto roll with the punches. Buffy I could deal with. Katrina most likelyappreciated being associated with a dangerous reptile. Saint Marie hadn'tforgotten Katrina threating Saint Marie's daughter that was for sure. "I am considering much of what our Princess wouldlikeme/usto do, because it is based in keen insight and well-reasoned thought. Shewishes to spare our sons so we will have more warriors in the fight. We havealready added men to Havenstone and one to the Council, as was the Will of theAncestors." "Let me see, she wishes a bodyguard of fourteen (2 First House and 1 fromAfrica, Asia, Europe and North & South America, the Amazon presence inAustralia was minimal and I doubted they would bring someone up fromAntarctica, plus the seven matching Runners) without removing permanent membersof any House and allowing all Houses to have access to our future Queen. Iapprove. It is a fine idea and I wish I had thought of it." "Should we add Runners directly into the Royal House? She doesn't think soand I feel this decision shows a remarkably insightful into the long history ofour People and protects the Council's sensitivity on such matters. Iapprove." "Placing our sons into the care of the Royal House? We need to free up asmany sisters as possible. Men under the care of the Royal House will betradesmen and help-mates. Not a single weapon will be in their hands. If noneof you have realized herlikewill take two decades to implement, itonly increases my eagerness to see her become 'casted'." Aya's hand shot up again. Yes?" "I would hope the Council, or the Regents, will consider a'like'whichis not mine. It is a man's and it should be of no surprise the idea isCáel’s." "If you feel it holds merit, Aya, tell us," Saint Marie deferred. "The 9 Clans have shown some interest in a children exchange programsamong our youth as it would provide new techniques we can add to our arsenal ana new avenue to experiment with new ideas. I find the idea to be promising asthe Host takes part in affairs beyond our own immediate needs. It would alsosupply partners between families to be shared for a season or two." Translation: Amazon women could breed with men of allied Secret Societies toreduce our dependence on our own, much smaller, male population. In the shortterm, it would go a long way to rectifying the Host's child-bearing problems. The Council's quarrelsome behavior was biting them in the ass big time. SaintMarie was right, the only opinion that mattered was hers until the Councilelected a Regency. Had we not been at war, the Council would have ruled, but wewere, so we took orders from the Golden Mare. Even if the High Priestess hadbeen alive, she would have deferred to our designated War Leader on mostthings. "Cáel Ish, Cáel Wakko Ishara is a very dangerous and devious male, Aya. Becareful of any council he gives," Saint Marie's caution was more playfulthan menacing. "I'll be okay," Aya peeped. "He doesn't have sex with any womanuntil she is eighteen." That wasn't what the Golden Mare was cautioningher about. We all knew it. Aya was working to defuse a sticky bit of mentaljuggling, listening to a man's advice. "On that we can agree," Saint Marie conceded. "Back towhatIwould'like'to say. The New Directiveis being implemented. I feel it goes beyond the purview of my mandate. I willleave it for the Regency to deal with. Katrina and Tessa have already investedin the groundwork in this endeavor, so I will endorse it if that is thedecision of the Regency." "I have zero desire to add a single Runner to the Security Detail. I willopen up slots in the training program if that is what the Regency demands. EachHouse's policy for dealing with the First Directive is their business, notmine. If any of you wish to consider something the Princess considers to beimportant, so be it. The idea of 1,000 Isharans does not appeal to me. Look howmuch trouble their tiny numbers have already caused us and take heed." Buffy began growling, which amused/worried the Houses on either side of us.Unlike me, Buffy didn't 'roll with the blows' and considered all manner ofinsults to me, House Ishara and her Isharan sisters to be answerable withviolence. I loved her so. There was also no way I'd let her go after SaintMarie. The Golden Mare would crush her; I had no doubt. "The unwelcome blood feud: are both House Heads ignorant of my forbiddanceof such things? Apparently so. Both defied me by tossing insults back andforth. Considering we are at war with two of the most powerful Secret factions,I am angered by both for their idiocy." "The solution the Princesslikesis rather novel,"Saint Marie was punishing both Messina and me with her low voice and fierygaze. Krasimira coughed. "Yes?" Saint Marie suspended her anger. "The suggested resolution is not without precedence," Krasimira spokewith a scholarly detachment. "In our early days, the Host settled suchdisputes in Spring and Fall gatherings by contests of foot speed, hunting,horsewomanship, archery and wrestling. If we revive the tradition, thecompeting Houses could nominate one woman for each contest to settle thematter. Only the hand-to-hand match would risk either contestant'shealth." "I will consider it and render judgement before the Sun sets today,"Saint Marie nodded. "The finallikepleases me greatly.Dealing with the 52 of you is, Cáel?" I was on the spot. I couldn't let down my fan base of one, Aya. Perhaps it wasfive, Buffy (who would never admit it), Daphne (who liked me), Katrina (becauseshe liked fucking with my head) and Desiree (who was less likely to admit shefound me funny than Buffy). I felt I gave a decent effort.
"'Aginormous pain in my hemorrhoids?'the basic one." "'More painful than having my cornea scrapped with a spoon?'moregruesome." "'Enough to make me want to give Sakuniyas a surprise French kiss?'mostlikely to be fatal." "'Worse than waking up to discover I'm related to Cáel WakkoIshara?'most horrifying, for both of us." "'Inspiring me to toss it all away and take up Professional Bikini MudWrestling?'a personal fantasy of mine." "Why do we put up with him again?" one House Head remarked. "Because I am worried that one," motioning to Buffy, "will stabme in the elevator after a meeting." "My First, are you acting psychotic around the Council members?" Ilooked over my shoulder at Buffy. "Wakko Ishara, it is not an act. I am psychotic," she respondeddeadpan. "Are you still packing that thermite grenade?" "No Wakko Ishara. Daphne stole it from me and hid it," was her quickdelivery. "I love working with you two," Daphne whispered. "What is it with you, your unsubtle sexual innuendo and me in abikini?" Saint Marie stared at me. "I find the combination of brilliance and lethality sexy. Just askElsa," I grinned. Then I grimaced as Buffy stomped on my toes. The HouseHeads and Apprentices on either side of me noticed and clearly expected me todo something, like to show outrage (because she was my underling), or startcrying (because I was a guy). "Prestige," Daphne hissed quietly. "Prestige." She wasreminding Buffy that beating me up in public made the other Amazons think evenless of me than they already did. "I will go with (B), the cornea scrapping," Saint Marie gave me anod. "Damn it," I muttered. I also got my foot out of the way beforesomeone did any more damage to my phalanges. 'Best Daddy Ever,' Aya mouthed to me. Back to the main action. "It is not my place to order the rest of you to elect Shawnee, Rhada andBuffy to be the Regency. I do admit I admire the mixture of candidates,"Saint Marie declared. I shot Rhada a quick look. She seemed really, reallyenamored of the idea of being part of the Regency, thus staying in New York forthe next decade, or so. "Before the idea is rejected out of hand, I suggest we ask the threepeople our Princess wouldliketo be part of the Regency ifthey would accept the nomination," the Golden Mare continued."Shawnee Arinniti?" "I bow to the logic and reason of the proposal," Shawnee replied. "Rhada Meenakshi?" "I wish to join my sisters in battle, yet I accept the reasoning behindthe proposal," Rhada nodded. "If my Head of House agrees, I will stayand do my part for our People." What was she saying to me?'Youare going to whip me, beat me, torture me, humiliate me and push me to beyondthe limits of any pain I have experienced until I pass out ~ repeatedly'. "I despair of finding any other compromise," Mahdi frowned. "Ifmy Apprentice understands the greater difficulty she will face gaining prestigeamong her House-mates, I will consent to this proposal." Essentially a'yes'. "Buffy Ishara?" "I was really looking forward to ripping the spines out of still livingfoes, but I would be a fool to go against Aya of Kururiyahhssi's smarts. IfWakko Ishara wants to walk out of this room unassisted, he will see the wisdomof this decision as well," she gave me a shark's smile. Daphne hadsurpassed her limit and punched Buffy. "Hell ya, I agree," I exclaimed. "Now I know there will becertain times of the day when she isn't stalking me." "I'll work more pain into our limited schedule," Buffy grumbled. "Are we sure he is the House Head and she is the Apprentice?" Yetanother House Head joined the 'shit on me' train. It was telling of our group dynamic how we accepted the Pyramid of Pain. Theunderlings dispensed advice and violence as they felt necessary without their'superior' getting pissy about it. Buffy felt totally justified hitting me andaccepted being hit by Daphne, who continued to act unimpeded as Buffy'srapid-fire translator. "If I was House Head, I'd handcuff him to me," Buffy clarified forher. "What she said," I pointed a thumb Buffy's way. I'd have used afinger, but she might have grabbed, twisted and made me scream in pain. "Perhaps the Council can vote on this as their second order of business,"Saint Marie cloaked her command as a sugg