Cáel Defeats The Illuminati - Book 3 (2024)

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 f*cking. 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 org*smic 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 sh*t 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,circ*mstances. 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-f*cker." 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 f*cked 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 f*ck 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 f*ck 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 myselfa*gainst. 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 f*ck 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 puss*es 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 f*ckingwith." 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 co*ckhead 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 horsem*n 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 f*cked 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. sh*t-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."

co*ck-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 co*cks, 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 sh*t. 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 f*ckers 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 f*ck 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 co*ck 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 sh*t," I mumbled. Since she was an intelligent& capable divinity and knew I wasn't stupid, no wait, it wasn't that her c*ntitching. 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 f*cking 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 'f*cking 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 co*ckpit 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-f*cked 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 f*ck 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 co*ckpit."

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."

f*ck, 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 co*ckpit. 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 co*ckpit. 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 f*ck 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 f*ck 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 c*nt," 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 co*ckpit, 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.

"f*ck 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 co*ckpit. 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 thisf*ckup 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

"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 tit* andI'll promise to do my best."

"What? You want to seeme naked?" she grew indignant. "No!" It was her being a vagin*lvirgin (I knew the type ~ good oral technique and bed play, but no 'go-uppy'the c*nt, 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 f*cking 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 whor*s. 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, f*ck ifI knew.

"What do I set them, Oh sh*t!" 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. f*cking 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 co*ckpit 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 tit* 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

"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

"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-slu*t background. Nah, she was seeinghow high the bar was for her to be the best f*ck 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 f*cked 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. Motherf*cker! 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

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

(Right where we left off)

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

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 sh*t.

"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.

(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 circ*mstances. 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 f*ck 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 colossalf*ck 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 sh*tless 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 advertisem*nt 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

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 peaco*cks 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-f*cked 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 18^th. 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 f*cked 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

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 culturalhom*ogeneity. 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.

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

There was a long pause. Pamela took another long breath then an impish grincame to her lips.

"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.

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

{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,

{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 sh*t 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

"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.

"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.

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

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 c*nt 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.
"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.

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 f*cking 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 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

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.

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 org*sm 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

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/f*ck-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 bestial*ty 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 tof*ck?'

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

"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 incitedpuss*-twitching memories. We'd once f*cked 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 co*ck. 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 closetsad*st 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 circ*mstance, 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 3^rd, 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.

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.

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.

To becontinued.

By FinalStand for Literotica.

Hell Rains Down.

Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.

Would you choose ephemeral beauty, or rugged determination? Brief Segway :

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 sh*t 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.

'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 sh*tload 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 f*ck 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 f*ck 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 f*cking 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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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 f*cked 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 f*cking, I never made it higher thanCopernicium before she passed out), but I can recall the precise taste, textureand topography of every c*nt I've had face to face contact with. I knew rightwhere to tongue-f*ck Anais to twist her up inside.

Control-org*sm, control-org*sm, 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 c*nt. She was wetter than Bangladesh in the rainy season. That was anindicator of some serious masturbatory sessions stopping just short of org*smbefore 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 vagin*l opening to my fingers and tongue while keeping thatsilky feel for her cl*tor*s.

"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 org*sm 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 co*ck 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.

"f*ck 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 sh*t, 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

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

"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 co*ck 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

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 co*ck," 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 tit*," 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 f*ck 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 amusem*nt 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 co*ck 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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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. f*ckit. 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 f*cker!

"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."

"Bullsh*t," 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. sh*t 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 sh*t 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-f*ck," 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-f*cking-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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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, af*ck-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 af*ck-up, but I'm a f*ck-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 co*ck?"

"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.
The commander of the Zuun stood up and waited to be recognized. The staffofficer from the Yunnan Command pointed at him.

"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.

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.

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 sh*t 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

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

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 sh*t 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 f*ck 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

"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

"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

"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'

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

"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

{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 f*cking 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 f*cking ball-buster right now,with all the other sh*t 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 f*ck 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 c*nt 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 ofKōf*cku 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 f*ck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyonein the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.

'Cáel' knew Jack and sh*t 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 sh*t-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried topull that sh*t. 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 f*ck 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 f*cking 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'

Japan, {muttering}Investigating the attacks that came from yourterritory, bullsh*t! 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

"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.

"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 f*cked 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, chastisem*nt for thinking my opinion mattered, me telling her to back thef*ck 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 af*cking 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

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

"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

"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 co*ck. 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

"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

"My read on thesituation is this:

"Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopther into the bloodline of thefirstAmazon."

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 f*cking 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 'sh*t 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 suggestion.

"Cáel Wakko Ishara, can I ask you a personal question?" Kohar ofMarda caught my attention.

"Shoot, wait,probably not the best terminology in this crowd. Ask away," I replied.

"Have you faced a House challenge yet?"

"Yes. Just last night in fact. We free-climbed the north-face ofHavenstone. I beat the next closest contender by three floors. I also hadPrincess Aya on the roof dropping bricks on anyone who attempted to get pastme."

"That means he isn't going to answer you," Beyoncé

{7:35 am Sunday,September 7th ~ Last day}

Right where we left off

My rage over Aya wasn't called into question or challenged. Practicality hadtrumped tradition in the inevitable Amazon fashion. The only one elevated inanyone's eyes was Aya. Krasimira's apparent political adventurism was probablyhard for the others to deal with. But in context, only Mahdi, Katrina and SaintMarie had seen her denounce Hayden, so this seemed a new side of Krasimira tomost people in the room.

Krasimira wasn't the spiritual authority, that was Hayden. She wasn't theGeneralissimo, that was Saint Marie. Katrina and I were both appointedofficials, we retained our House status. Saint Marie would die a member of HouseInara and join her ancestors with pride. Her litany of accomplishments werewell known to the Host.

But Krasimira? She would die a member of House Cybele unheralded. The Keeper ofRecords recorded the feats of others, not their own. Nearly two generationsago, a young Krasimira had joined the Keeper's House as a guardian to anun-remembered (save by her) augur. The augur passed and she took up otherduties within the house.

When the old Keeper faced her final months, she elevated Krasimira to her spot.High Priestess Hayden had approved the choice without really knowing whoKrasimira was. (No one outside the House of the Keeper had personal bonds withher anymore.) Seamlessly, she had sat in the old Keeper's seat and the Councilkept chugging along.

For the past eight years, she had sat quietly at Hayden's side and onlyspeaking when addressed. Mostly, she did nothing overt. The actual note-takingwas done by an underling. The Keeper took her own private notes squirreled awayin her mind, to be written when she was by herself. Those notes would be handedover to her successor, for the Keepers' eyes and theirs alone.

I don't think Krasimira knew me in particular when she dutifully followedHayden into these chambers the day my death, or life in a cage, was banteredabout. It was the day we first crossed paths. She would have known of Shawnee'srequest for the tooth of an Isharan, though she lacked the authority to askwhy. (She wasn't a voting member of the Council.)

But when Shawnee made her claim, Krasimira hadn't balked in her support,despite the oddity of Shawnee's declarations, I was indeed Ishara and mysisters could not dispose of me. The outrage of the others meant nothing toher. She pursued her obligations with true Amazon fearlessness both inside andoutside of the Council.

On the night of the 2nd Betrayal, a Keeper had sat there in silence as herfellow Amazons, the Ash Men, were sentenced to an unjust death. She'd hadneither the numbers nor the authority to alter events, what else could she havedone?

So the Keepers kept track of the names of nineteen 'unaccounted for' Ash Men.For what purpose? An episode of Amazon history no one would ever want torevisit? Yet in my hour of need, coming back 2,600 years was the name 'Vranusof Ishara', sitting only a few keystrokes away. No one, save a few Arinnitidiehards, wanted to know the truth of the Amazon Ash Men; and even they didn'twant to remember us as individuals. To them, Vranus existed as a notation onthe secret Charter of the Arinniti Sons.

To Krasimira, Vranus had been a living, breathing warrior of the Host, not evendead, still mythically fighting the enemies of our race because his death hadnever been officially recorded. With my appearance, I stood in mute testimonyto his death, and that of his sons and their sons for a damn long time.

Still, I hated playing catch-up.

With the Amazon custom of adoption, had no one asked if another possibleIsharan heritage still persisted?

I would bet they had. And I'd bet they had sought for that knowledge in theRolls of the Host, always finding that pathway devoid of hope. But if theKeeper had known, why had she kept quiet?

Pride, shame, Krasimira's words:we show anger when we should showhumility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We haveheaped insult upon insult on our ancestors, yet are now aghast that they turnaway from us, I had confused her soliloquy with that of an accusation, notthe long held understanding of her office.

Even staring extinction in face, the modern Host hadn't truly accepted theanswer, the line of Vranus. Faced with the truth, the Amazons would have'forgotten' the descendants of Vranus all those centuries ago in the same waythey 'forgot' all the other Ash Men on the day I was brought into the Host.

But the Keepers did something more than maintain the rolls and records of theAmazons, more than watch over the augurs and make sure their messages made itto the proper ears. They safeguarded the truth. No matter what the Councildecided and the High Priestess commanded, the Keepers remained honest stewardsof the real history of the Amazons.

Why?

The Amazons were terribly practical and the truth could run contrary to theneeds of political reality. Honesty wasn't a highly stressed Amazon virtue,loyalty was. So was bravery. And thus generation after generation of Keepershad lied to the Council and the High Priestesses. Every time those augustpersonages had committed something to 'the nothingness', the Keepers had defiedthem and not forgotten.

The first heads of the first twenty houses had surrendered their names for theunity of their people, but the Keepers remembered. All twenty of those womenhad been of the Amazon tribe of the Pala people living on the southern coast ofthe Black Sea when the Trojan Wars began. Over time, their true blooddescendants had founded new houses and been adopted into others.

Aya was truly a daughter of Kururiyahhssi; I had no doubt of that anymore. Hadshe not shared the same blood as the first Amazon, Krasimira wouldn't havebrought Aya and Kwen together. Resurrecting an ancient tradition in acomplicated fallacious coup attempt wasn't in her; nor was such a maneuver evena necessity. The Host would elect a Regency eventually and Saint Marie was handlingthe war in a highly competent fashion.

So Krasimira hadn't sought out the heirs of Vranus, yet when one appeared, shewelcomed 'him'. And when she stepped into the President's office with Haydenwhile waiting for me to be brought upstairs to face judgement that night, Iimagined sending Hayden to the cliffs was the farthest thing from her mind.

The rest were playing politics, gender politics, and couldn't see the truthstaring Krasimira in the face. The truth was a bitch and didn't play favorites,or worry about the sensibilities of others. Krasimira had seen her sistersrefusing to acknowledge the ugly reality they had created for themselves.

Krasimira wasn't an advocate for Ishara, that was my job, and my crappyperformance was something between Dot and me. She wasn't an advocate for themales and the New Directive. That was what Katrina was for. No, like a hundredKeepers before her, Krasimira was the silent sentinel for the Truth and, theTruth didn't care about anything but the Truth.

"The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazonwas arather grand pronouncement from the Chief Librarian, wasn't it? Krasimiradidn't chastise Hayden. That wasn't her place. Technically, neither was shedisputing Hayden's ability to rule.

This wasn't the climax of a dinner-theater 'Who Done It'. The crime before theHigh Priestess was High Treason and I was the pre-ordained guilty party. My'ally', Katrina Epona, had not been an advocate for my defense. No. Again in myHour of Need it was Krasimira.

Lacking any true authority, she had defied her sisters and made her definitivestatement. What truly transpired was Krasimira staring Hayden straight in theeyes and saying 'you cannot lie your way out of this one, High Priestess. We(as in all the Keepers past and present) will not let you'.

Had she used those words, Saint Marie would have gotten around to asking whatKrasimira meant. Krasimira would have rather died, because once those bitchesdiscovered their nerdy sisters hadn't erased a damn thing in 3,000 years, theywould insist they do so immediately. Krasimira wasn't about to do that. Thanksto the chaos surrounding Hayden's departure, no one had confronted her over hercrucial action.

To put it more precisely, the Golden Mare had been too busy and Mahdi had beenwrapped up in Hayden's Decree and the resulting pressure on the Heads of Houseto pick the Regency. Katrina was probably a case ofI'm not going toask you so you don't have to lie to me. The only other living person in theroom when Hayden's fate was sealed was me, and I'd had my hands full as well.

I had to think about what I should and could do. I couldn't beat her up overAya anymore than I could punish my Isharans for their misplaced arrogance. Idecided to extend a 'thank you'; and not only for myself, but for everyconceited bitch who had ever sat at this table, or all the other physicalmediums the Council had used before this one.

We held three votes: The Council couldn't collectively decide on how toimplement Aya's otherlikes(1), so they agreed on hersuggestion for a Regency instead (2). The final vote was to set a date for thenext Council meeting (3). A date within 9 days of the Winter Solstice with theRegency to decide the precise date and give the House Heads two weeks warning.

The last calamity at the meeting was initiated by a question of etiquette.

"How do we address the Princess at Council meetings?" the Head ofHouse Hanwasuit inquired of Krasimira.

"There is no precedent for addressing the Iwaruwa alone. By our laws, sheis not truly Dumalugal Aya either. She is Nasusara," Krasimira responded.Queen.

"She is a child," a third House Head declared, "not anAmazon."

"No," Mahdi shook her head. "A, Aya is 'un-casted'. She bears anhonorific presented to her by the leader of an established stronghold (SummerCamp) and confirmed by the Golden Mare minutes ago."

"Congratulations my mamētu me

"Hana and I arestill thinking over names, the other three cases are, perhaps more complicatedthan we should get into this morning," I finished off. Yeah, my Illuminatiaunt, the Hashashin advisor and my Seven Pillars' 'kidnapper turned Prisoner ofWar' cases.

Once the two crazy chicks (Buffy and Rhada) were contained, things quieted downquickly. I was left with the opportunity to immediately make things worse.There were four angry Amazons, yet only one in urgent need of succor. I pulledaway from Elsa successfully this time. Her emotional focus on me couldn'twithstand the volatility washing over the scene. She'd make me pay for itlater.

"Buffy, I'm am all yours in 30 minutes," I touched her cheek. Juanitaand Daphne didn't release her and I couldn't wait around for her blisteringresponse.

"Oneida, please call me this afternoon so we can look to our nextsteps," I gave her my best 'I'm so Happy everyone knows about our sharedWarrior's Love', because lying was my only option at that second.

I walked straight into the frothing Rhada. My arms wrapped her up. As I pressedin, she collapsed on to me. The two Amazons, the Head and Apprentice of HouseNammu, released her into my care. Rhada's sobs disturbed everyone present. Theyweren't thinking 'he's broken her'. Had they felt that way, I would have beenattacked.

No, they were worried that Rhada, like too many of their daughters, was 'weak'in the mind. I curled her body into mine as I went to the floor. As few peopleas possible around us needed to participate in our 'private' moment. Mahdi wascoming around the table rapidly. I had to move fast.

"Hey," I whispered to her. "You have a knife. Why are you notstabbing me?"

"I am shattered inside," she sobbed.

"No, no, you don't," I kissed her forehead, aborting her pity party."Get up right now, or no more kitten showers for you." Rhada jolted.I had blindfolded and bound her, then let kittens lick her body. Afterwards, wehad shared our first shower together.

"What," hissed Mahdi. I had visions of Day #2 on the job and herwhipping me with my own belt.

"Rhada has been protecting me since the day we first met," I lookedup into Mahdi's eyes. "She has been making sure I didn't flee after I knewyour secret, though it took Oneida to explain to us why it was so. RightOneida?"

I didn't look at Oneida. I gave her no hint on how to proceed. I'm a horribleinfluence on the hearts and minds of true romantics.

"Yes. I once found them in combat. I also misunderstood Rhada's desires,yet attest to my sister's fierceness," Oneida backed me up. "Wecontinue to disagree over where Cáel’s attentions are best directed," shetacked on. Whoops.

"I should have," Rhada mumbled. Her next words would have been'killed you,' so I smothered her lips with a kiss. As I pulled her head back Imouthed 'stab me'. Rhada stabbed me. I winced.

"f*ck," I grunted.

"You stabbed him!" the Apprentice of Nammu declared.

"He has left himself vulnerable," Rhada sniffled. "He shouldknow better by now."

"You are teaching him?" she and Mahdi queried at the same time.

"He's a male," Rhada answered with more confidence and affection. Shealso snuck me a smile. Yep, I had masked her vulnerability with my own ~ sillymale. Did anyone buy our deception? Not hardly. Once more it was a case of thelie you prefer over the obvious evidence. It was good to have friends too.

"Cáel Wakko Ishara," Beyoncé

Spinning plates:

I walked into my place right before nine. Odette was spending the day with herparents, so I had promised myself a little 'unwinding' time. Sovann, Timothy'sCambodian-American boyfriend, was on the sofa, hair wet, towel around hisshoulders and 'boy shorts' underwear on (with nothing else) looked my way.Juanita was right behind me. At least they had met before. The shower wasrunning.

"Hey Sovann," I headed his way. "Good night last night?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "How's life been treating you?"

"Stuff I can't talk about," I grimaced. "Has Timothy talked toyou about us getting a new place?"

"Yes," he nodded. "We are both of the opinion you need to keepthe few sane friends you have." Ah, the advance in a relationship when thecouple starts thinking of one of their friends as a friend of both of them.

"I appreciate it," I grinned. I was about to plop down on the sofabeside him when I recalled my 'company'. "Juanita, can I get youanything?"

"No," she paused then, "what's next on the agenda?"

"I am planning on hanging around for a half hour before calling myneighbor in 3F and inviting her out to brunch. She's done a great deal for meand, since I'm about to move out, I figure I would like to repay her kindnessbefore I go."

"He means 'f*ck her'," Juanita sniped. Sovann arched a questioningeyebrow.

"Rough morning meeting," I mumbled. As my ass hit the sofa cushions,the shower cut off. Juanita's displeasure over the revelation of my sexualmisadventures earlier this morning was amplified by the idea I might be talking'shop' with non-Amazons.

I'd talked down Buffy at Havenstone after the meeting. She had officialbusiness to take care of, which curtailed her ability to make my life miserableat the moment, so Juanita felt obliged to take over those duties. I had abouthad it with that sh*t. I was reordering my thoughts for the umpteenth timesince Aya had become Queen and I'd become a Father ten times over when Timothycame out, a towel around his waist.

One look told him something was wrong with my soul.

"Bro," he murmured. I stood up as he approached. He wrapped me up ina hug. Sovann joined us a few seconds later. After a bit Timothy pulled back."What can you tell me?"

"They screwed Aya over big time," I sighed, "and I'm going to bea dad more than once. Everyone woman I know is either too good for me, orviolently-bitchy f*cking nuts." Sovann stole a quick glance Juanita's way.Timothy didn't.

"We were planning on catching a 12:30 showing of 'As Above, So Below'.You should come along," Timothy suggested. Normal guy-stuff.

"I could invite the girl in 3F," I amended the offer. "We coulddo brunch at the Egyptian place first."

"Great," Timothy grinned. "You go ask her and I'll getdressed."

As I was heading for the door, he called out from the bedroom.

"One of your Kazak buddies stopped by after they found out we were moving.They have scouted out a few place for 'their Prince', eight in fact. They lefta bundle for us to consider." Ugh. My 'Brother', the Great Khan, had heardI was moving, was currently living like a pauper and decided to do somethingabout it. My 2014 Tax Returns were going to be, interesting.

Juanita tailed me to 3F. I rang the doorbell and waited. Movement, hesitation,

"Hey!" through the door.

"It is Cáel Nyilas from down the hall," I responded. "You'vebeen kind to me on numerous occasions and I've been remiss in thanking you. Myroommate, his boyfriend, my 'buddy' and I are going out for brunch and a movieand I'd like it if you could come along. I apologize for the short notice. Mylife's been a mess recently."

"Oh, OH!" she gasped. "Hold on!" I could make out thesounds of her running around before the door swung open. She was blushing inembarrassment and it wasn't hard to see why. Her place as a pigsty. The girl in3F was cute, zesty and vibrant ~ 5' 2" and 110 lbs. She was busty,bra-less with dark-coppery hair pulled back in a loose bun and pale skin.

She was wearing a white wife-beater and cut-off jeans, no socks, or shoes. Bothwere stained. Her place was a mess with discarded fast food containers, pizzaboxes, grocery bags, shipping boxes and other such debris lying about.

"Come in. Let me get dressed," she ushered me, us in.

"This is my bodyguard, Juanita. She's going to take a quick peek aroundthen make herself scarce," I tried to smooth things over.

"In this dump?" Juanita scoffed cruelly. "I don't know where tobegin."

Blink. The girl in 3F's lower lip trembled and her eyes grew watery. Shesniffled. I'd had it with, everybody.

"That is uncalled for," I said in a dead voice as I pivoted towardJuanita. "Go home." Juanita glared. "I don't mean my home. Imean 'home' as in wherever you go when you aren't with me, because you arepassed being on my last nerve. Don't call in a replacement either. I've had itwith you and your f*cking attitude ~ and today, right now, I am pulling rank.Get out of my sight."

"I'll be out in the hallway," Juanita backed away.

"No," I shook my head. "You are not welcome in Ishara's presencefor the rest of the day. Your crass words to a person who has only shown mekindness were the last in a long list of insults today which have had adetrimental effect on my quality of life. Go home and contemplate yourfailure."

She tried to match wills with me with her gaze.

"Let me at least call in a replacement before I go," she retreated.

"No."

"You are being unreasonable."

"Yes I am. A minute ago, you ceased being worthy of an explanation."

"I'm sorry," 3F spoke up. "I didn't mean to make you and yourfriend get into a fight."

"We aren't fighting," I kept my eyes on Juanita. "She made me apromise to respect my desire to live a somewhat private life. The way shetreated you is showing the utmost disrespect to both you and me. She assumed nomatter how horrible her behavior, I would stomach it. And I'm letting her knowshe's mistaken. Good-bye Juanita."

"Don't do this, Ishara," Juanita tried to guilt me by authority.

"You should have thought over your obligation to our House before youopened your damn mouth and insulted my neighbor, Juanita. The next words out ofyour mouth will be taken as an assault on my prestige." Basically, a'f*ck-you' to Juanita for being a bitch and then trying to guilt me out of overme punishing her over lousy attitude. By sending her away, I was punishing her,there was no doubt of that in my mind.

The agreement I had with my bodyguards was simple, I accepted the necessity oftheir presence because my life really was in danger and they accepted I wishedto maintain some illusion of normalcy. Juanita crossed the line, again, and I'dhad enough, so now no Isharan was going to be around to both protect me andintrude on my normalcy and I was forcing the responsibility for my decision onboth of us, because it was her f*cking fault.

Juanita bowed slightly,turned and left. Oh, she'd be calling this in. The difference was, she'd have toexplain I was furious and why I was furious and that would make Buffy furiouswith her. And deep down, Juanita knew she was in the wrong. The nextbodyguard(s) to show up would either be highly discrete, or someone I couldn'teasily shove away.

I had an immediate emotional crisis to deal with.

"I," the girl in 3F mumbled, looking at everything, but me.

"Ya know, your decision to give the maid the week off was reallyinopportune," I grinned at her.

"Ah?" She was stumped.

"I owe you a favor, or three, don't I?" I inquired.

"You don't have to look at it that way," she evaded verbally whilemaking eye contact.

"Deal," I widened my smile. "We are going out to the Egyptianplace a few blocks over. Get dressed. While you are doing so, I'm going to gocompletely OCD on you and pick up your living room. Pretend to be surprisedwhen you come out," I finished with a chuckle.

"You, ah, don't have, ah, to," she worked through the weirdness of itall. My smile won her over.

"Good. Get dressed. I'll call my roommate and his boyfriend to hurry overhere and help. Hurry!"

"My place is a mess," she gulped.

"But it won't be, and face it, after seeing me and my bodyguard get into aspat after her 'beyond' rude behavior and my offer to clean up your apartment,today can't get much more bizarre, now can it?"

Yes. Yes it could, but by burying the bizarreness of me and Juanita, I wasactually doing her a tangible favor, cleaning up her place, and taking her outwith the option for sensuality later.

"Oh, you are right. That was pretty weird," she agreed with an impishsmile. "I'll get dressed."

She skipped off to her bedroom. I called Timothy and had him and Sovannhot-foot it over to 3F with a box full of trash bags. Her place was a mess,capital 'M'.

Take an impossibly awkward situation of finding a guy you are sexually curiousabout, his gay roommate and his gay roommate's boyfriend in your apartment'smain room cleaning up the place and turn it into a game. Forty-five minuteslater, Theddy (Theodora) wasn't sure why she felt embarrassed about having thethree of us over.

We put sixteen extra-large trash bags on the curb along with her old sofa. Wegave her our brand new, sleeper-sofa since we would soon be departing. I wasalso giving her my relatively new bed (we would work out a deal on mysuspension equipment). We chiseled her old carpet off the floor, it was beyondgross, tore out her garbage disposal, it was developing intelligent life, andcleaned her bedroom and bathroom too.

All along, we bantered about numerous topics including,

(Sovann) "So what do you do for a living?"

(Theddy) "I'm a sound technician, I dub for, p*rnos,"

(Me) "My, how bizarre. I love p*rn. Have you done anything I may havelistened to?"

(Theddy) "Maybe, I also sell the soundtracks of your sex-capades."She was blushing, shuffling her feet and looking down as her confession spilledforth.

(...)

(Theddy) "I saw a girl break into your place, but didn't report it. Wasthat okay?"

(Timothy) "What did she look like?"

(Sovann) "Was she armed?"

(Me) "Hey now!"

(Sovann) "You're right. Stupid question. Of course she was armed."

(Theddy) "Really?"

(Me) "Plenty of women show up to my place unarmed. Odette has never shownup armed. Neither has Brooke, or Libra."

(Timothy) "It is so sad when it is easier for you to name your unarmedgirlfriends than your armed ones."

(Me) "It isnotthat bad."

(Timothy) "Yes it is."

(Me) "No it isn't."

(Sovann) "Yes it is. Shall I name five?"

(Me) "Fine," I hung my head. "Let's not."

(Theddy) "Do you hang out with really deadly women?"

(Me) "Define 'deadly'."

(Timothy) "Yes, he does."

(Sovann) "Bro, it's gotten so bad, Odette started giving a technicalcritique to the last action movie we watched together."

(Me) "That's not my fault."

(Timothy) "Right. It's your crazy Grandmother's and your buddy in the SAS'faults."

(Me) "Pamela's notreallymy Grandmother and he's not inthe SAS. He's in the SRR. They're totally different."

(Theddy) "I noticed you didn't say she wasn't crazy... and who is the SRR?"

(Timothy) "The British Special Reconnaissance Regiment."

(Me) "They're big map and compass people."

(Sovann) "Like big, delicious Boy Scouts."

(Timothy) "With guns."

(Sovann) "Oh. He had a gun?" and then Timothy threw a coach pillow athim.

(Theddy) "I'm sorry that guy tried to kill you."

Pause as we three looked at each other.

(Timothy) "Which one of us?"

(Me) "Which time?"

(Sovann) "Hang out with Cáel and you'd be surprised how many people showup trying to kill you, or him, or someone else."

(Theddy) "Really?"

The Cult of the Jaguar:

We were walking back from the eatery. They were walking from the direction ofCasa dee Timothy, heading our way. There were five Latinos: two girls and threeguys. To put it more accurately, there was one lady, one woman and three men.To say it like it was, there was one spirit-creature, one priestess-savant andthree foot soldiers.

As previously revealed, the various members of the 9 Clans operateddifferently. The Cult of the Jaguar operated like a, cult. They had a mess offlunkies at the lowest level, cast-offs, ex-drug users, the insane and thosenot quite right in the head. Essentially those people operated as a nearlyendless supply of cannon-fodder for the Cult's activities and served as a baseof worship for the Cult's divinities.

Next up the ladder you had the 'messengers'. Normally, they were not actuallypart of the cults, instead running the more mundane operations the Cult (big'C') owned and operated as well as interacting with the various cults (little'c'). Often 'messengers' worked for the Cult for generations in familybusinesses with some members not knowing the totality of their involvement withthe criminal underworld.

Then you had the priestly caste. Priests, priestesses, savants and priest/ess-savants,the priests and priestesses performed rites, led rituals and ran theorganization. Savants, like my Amazon augurs, had mystic powers granted/cursedto them by interactions with supernatural beings.

In the Cult, there were four ways to get your priestly caste. You could trainthem. Some divinities had schools who trained their leadership up from a youngage. Like any other profession, you learned and progressed as you grew older.

Or, a divinity could 'imprint' the knowledge in you. I understood those priestand priestesses burned out rather rapidly. Less we forget, this was a cabal ofruthless killers we are talking about.

You could also create a savant in the same method ~ spiritually twist some poorsoul to serve a purpose. Their life expectancy wasn't worth writing home about.

Or, you could breed them, yeah. Breeding people with supernatural horrors, andthese were my allies. Of course, being walking-talking abominations to theWeave had its own psychological pitfalls,

And, at the top of the individual cults were things like the 'lady' coming atme right now. I'd been briefed about them and theorized I could make one outfor what it really was because of my own mixed-up noggin, and I was right.Heading up each individual cult in the Cult of the Jaguar were avatars for thevarious divinities within the Cult pantheon.

Despite its name, the Cult of the Jaguar was not devoted to the jaguar (theanimal), or even the Jaguar God (alone). It was an amalgamation of variousNorthern and Southern Native American divinities ~ okayf*cking Nastyass divinities who feasted on death to keep a toe-hold in our reality. Theyhad not gotten along with Christianity, nor agreed with the Weave's verdictthat their time had passed.

The Weave's response was pretty clear. It had things like measles and smallpoxto undercut those divinities' worship base to which these powers had nocounter. Every other pantheon had retired into legend, like the AmazonGoddesses, or behind layers of mundane ritual, like the Hindi. These guys, andgals, refused to accept the message and still practiced that Old Time Religion.

How they ended up in the 9 Clans wasn't explained to me. They killed people,that was for damn sure. The only true assassins were the cult leaders. Of allthe 9 Clans, they were the worst. No person had ever survived having a contractaccepted by the Cult of the Jaguar, no amount of hiding, running, or fightingback had ever saved anyone. They always killed their targets. Always.

The reason was their leaders weren't human. They were monsters, think Grendelfrom Beowulf's Saga. Sure they looked human on the outside. Somewhere aroundthe tenth shotgun blast to the face, they looked a whole lot less human, butthat didn't stop them. According to my Alal-knowledge, you dismembered itrapidly (they healed pretty quick) and then burned the severed bits. He'd doneit before, to more than one of them, just not this one, 'cause it wasn't likeany of those creatures stayed dead, or forgave, or forgot a damn thing. Oh joy.Me, him and our extremely distinctive emerald-green eyes.

As a final note: technically the Cult of the Jaguar controlled all 9 Clans'territory in North and South America. In actuality: in Canada, they let theBrotherhood of the Wolf establish bases. In the US east of the Mississippi andnorth of the Gulf, they allowed the Black Hand and Brotherhood to work. InBrazil and the Caribbean, they allowed the Coils of the Serpent to set up shop.All three did so knowing they operated under sufferance of the Cult and theCult didn't f*ck around.

So, why didn't they send a representative to my Father's funeral? They had noclue who he was, or how things would turn out. Send the head of a cult? Dadwasn'tworthy enough. (Recall, the Earth & Sky sent Iskender,not someone of note at the time.) Sending a mere 'messenger' would have beeninsulting to the Amazons. Instead, they let the other 9 Clans handle it, andlook how that turned out. Or, I'm a f*cking idiot.

And back to me:

No one outside the Cult of the Jaguar knew the precise number of compositecults made up the organization, but many of the divinities had a history. I waslooking at, the Obsidian Butterfly, okay ~ a walking patch of starless night inthe form of a constantly mutating voluptuous, hourglass-shaped woman, bipedalbat and eight-winged butterfly.

A quick mental 'background check' matched to her image gave me a name,Ītzpāpālōtl, so the wacked-out side-kick had to be herhalf-human 'daughter'. I had a feeling the various divinities didn't share offspringmuch, considering the spiritual investment actually breeding one took.

"Bro," Timothy whispered. "Freaky-looking chick staring ourway."

"Yeah. I'm afraid so," I agreed. I subtly snuck an arm around Theddywho had picked up on our changing tone of conversation.

"I think we can take them," Sovann noted after studying them amoment.

"Let me clarify things for you," I snorted. "Tricycle, tricycle,tricycle, 4x4, Land Leviathan."

Yeah, we could kick the three guys' asses. Their basic brutality couldn'tcompensate for Sovann and Timothy's courage, bulk and brawling expertise. Theywere essentially for show anyway. The priestess-savant looked pretty young ~say 19 to 23 ~ and fit, but not martially adept. I could take her. Timothy, orSovannprobablycould take her, being bigger and stronger. Theavatar was utterly deceptive in her lethality. None of us stood a chanceagainst such a creature.

"I feel weird," Theddy shivered. She pressed tightly against me.

"Ever had a near-death experience?" I asked while keeping my eyesforward.

"Yeah. How did you know it felt like that?" Theddy looked up at me. Iwas peripherally aware of her head movement.

"Call it a hunch."

"That chick is seriously weirding me out," Sovann muttered.

"And she's looking pissed," Timothy added.

Oh yeah. She was probably trying to mystically scope me out and gettingnowhere, thanks to Dot Ishara. Bitch (not Dot). We were closing with theirgroup fast. I had to think faster.

"Take this," I handed Theddy my food container. I drew forth my phoneand called my No. 5, no 6, no No. 7 Go-To Gal.

"Estere," I opened up. Estere Abed, the Hashashin assassin andcurrent 9 Clans liaison with JIKIT.

"Yes Cáel?"

"Did you send someone to meet with me?"

"Yes. Per your 'office's' request, an emissary should be talking to youmomentarily. I was led to believe your schedule had opened up. Is there aproblem?"

"Composition of said embassy?"

"I was supposed to be, it isn't amessenger, is it?"

"Nah."

"Are you in danger?"

"Hmm, too late now. Give Buffy a very special'f*ck you very much'incase I never get to see any of you ever again," I jibed.

"Cáel,"

"I've got a not-amused Bat-girl to talk to. Take care. I'll update youlater," and I hung up. What else could either of us say? To get around mypique and still protect me, Buffy had sent in the 9 Clans to chat with me, notunderstanding the nature of the chatters. In the past, Estere and Miyako hadboth protected me and calmed me down. Oh well.

"Cáel Wakko Ishara," the 'lady' greeted me.

"Yep. This is Timothy, Sovann and Theddy. We are on our way to see 'AsAbove, So Below'." I took the initiative. She was confused. "It'sa movie."

"That is not why,"

"Listen," I cut her off. "I apologize in advance for my brusquemanner, but I'd rather try to ass-f*ck a wild rhino than discuss business rightnow.

"I know who and what you are and I don't care. For the next eighteen hoursI'm a 22 year old directionless moron who doesn't want to see thingsManwas not meant to see, the restless dead, or the look of disappointment on awoman's face. I don't mean to insult you. You are merely on the tail end of athree-month long Conga line which has been stomping all the happiness out of myGod-damn life,

"So smile and say 'hey, a movie sounds like a great idea' and joinus,

"Let us go on our way for now while promising me endless agony later likeevery other f*cking divine bitch in my life,

"Or give me thirty seconds to say good-bye to these nice normal peoplethen I'm going to draw down on your merry little band of murderers and you'regoing to kill me, or I'm going to kill the rest and seriously inconvenienceyou.

"Now, has anything I said been unclear and, if not, can I please have myanswer now? The movie starts in 30 minutes and I don't want to miss any of thepreviews."

"Teoyotlni?" she exhaled extenuating sexual menace. No, she had notgiven us her name. Nah, in the Olmec-derivative she was speaking, she had askedme 'do you know I am a goddess?' One word ~ cool.

"Acampa nic

To becontinued.

By FinalStand for Literotica.

A Butterfly wants to kill the World?

Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the►Podcast at Connected.

AlthoughLove is both fire and shadow, we often forget to take comfort from the coolnessof the memories when the burning flames are absent

There were precisely two things, okay, four things, keeping me alive. Thefourth thing would come to her later when her 'furious was replaced by her'curious' ~ as in how I knew her inhuman lingo ~ which would lead to my legacywith Grandpa.

The top three reasons -

She had poked my chest. It was a challenge, calling for one of my guardians tocome out and play. The avatar knew I was the chosen heir of the Goddess Isharaand my goddess had devoted a good deal of time and effort to my survival andcontinued service in her cause. If Ishara made an 'appearance', it would beenough reason to not eviscerate me for my foul treatment of her augustpersonage.

Nope. It seemed Ishara was busy at the moment.

Still, she most likely knew SzelAnya had shown a keen interest in me in Romania,though I'd never told Selena, or any other member of the 9 Clans, the Dragon'sDaughter had killed Ajax for me. Figuring out SzelAnya, a storm deity, hadhelped me and Aya escape from our kidnapping in the midst of a cyclone in thePacific Ocean wasn't much of a reach.

But no bolt of lightning coalesced from my chest to singe her finger. No clapof thunder. Not even a cloud with a hint of disfavor appeared above us.

Her obsidian fingernail began penetrating my shirt, touched my skin, then drewmy blood, and something 'twitched'.

That would be Contestant Goddess #3. She wasn't actually hanging around me. Shedidn't have to. She'd left me a memento of our last shindig before we partedways. That was the nightmare-inducing episode where she, the chthonic goddessSarrat Irkalli, had compressed one man's body into a dagger and then proceededto suck another's soul into it to use as a power source for an Airbus 350 (acommercial airliner, if you didn't know).

I still had thatsnaggletooth-looking thing at my back. Well who the Hell was I going to leaveit with? Honestly, the only people I felt could keep it safe I loved too muchto curse with it. Anyway, the second her divine claw touched my blood, the longdormant weapon whispered to me in a somewhat bored, lofty feminine voice frombeyond the grave,

Do you want me to discorporate this pathetic has-been for you?

Quick check. Only the avatar and I, and her priestess-savant heard that. Ofcourse, in downtown, New York City, noon Sunday, how weird would such adeclaration be? The avatar's eyebrow arched. Her big bat-ears (still lookinghuman to the normal viewing public) flicked this way and that, figuring outprecisely where the threat originated from. Slowly, her once poking hand beganto slide across my chest, along my ribs and around my back.

She touched the dagger. Nothing.

Gingerly, she drew it forth. I'd had a makeshift sheath made. As the blade madeits journey around me, she took a half-step back to better observe it.

"Please don't kill him!" Theddy squealed. "We haven't had sexyet!"

Being 'who' and 'what' she was, the avatar did what came natural. Fortunatelyfor Theddy, I'd become accustomed to working with psychopaths.

She stabbed the dagger at Theddy. I clamped my hand down on her wrist.The claws of her left hand came down on my constraining wrist. My free handcame down on that hand, trying to pry it free. It was a hopeless struggle,except.

Yes, my old friend 'except'. Except the avatar was holding the dagger. Aspowerful as Ītzpāpālōtl was, she wasn't pushing against me.She was pushing against Sarrat Irkalli.

Ītzpāpālōtl was a living, breathing terror machine whokilled and received sacrifices on a regular basis.

Sarrat Irkalli hadn't been actively worshipped in 3,000 years.

Uneven contest? Oh yeah.

See, Ītzpāpālōtl had spent the past 500 years continuouslyfighting against the Weave to keep her fingers on this side of reality.

Meanwhile, for the most part, Sarrat Irkalli had sat upon her throne in theSumerian Underworld with hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of souls toilingunder her watchful gaze for eternity. Sure, her version of Hell wasn't gettingany fresh deposits, but she knew how to milk the system well.

Even the bad karma for the dagger's creation wasn't hers. She'd stolen it fromthe foolish Gong Tau sorcerers who had meant to enslave my soul, aka one-thirdof the Baraqu-Alal-Cáel deal she'd worked out millennia ago. It was the Weavegiving her a 'freebie' for playing by the rules, if you considered the Weavesentient.

And now Ītzpāpālōtl was touching it. Whoops. It wasn't asif Ītzpāpālōtl was stupid. It isn't like there are tons ofmagic weapons running around, much less soul-munchers like the one I had.Rationally, who would give a novice like me, a weapon like this? I say again,'whoops'.

Once I'd figured this out, I couldn't stop being me.

"Theddy, do you like girls?"

"What?" she squeaked. Here was this psycho trying to drive a Smilodonincisor into her bosom and I was giving her a sex quiz.

Ītzpāpālōtl was really starting to struggle now.

"I, ah, are you okay?" she continued.

"Oh, I'm dandy. I'm serious. You think this chick is hot? I mean, wouldyou do her in a three-way?" I proposed casually.

"Timothy?" Sovann.

"Bro?" Timothy to me.

"It's all good. Sovann, you want to know what my life is like? This ladywho came to discuss business with me today is an immortal mass murderer. Yougive the word, I'll let go and this knife is going to cut her up like a Ginsublade on market day because just cutting her heart out isn't going to beenough. Worse. Eventually she'll get back up."

"Timothy?" Sovann repeated, this time with more concern. He thought Iwas nuts. I released my left hand. The blade flipped up, twisting in theavatar's grasp. That was the point her minions figured out something was wrong.

"El Amado?" the priestess-savant called out softly. The three goonsbegan reaching for 'things'.

"Call them off, or I open my other hand," I cautioned the avatar. Shespared me a swift, hostile look. My fingers tingled.

"Esten quietos!" she snapped. They stopped.

"Cáel, bad day, or not. This isn't you. Stop it. The girl's indanger," Timothy spoke up. He didn't mean Theddy. He meant the avatar.

"I'm being a real asshole, aren't I?" I sighed.

"Pretty much. You never let the bitches get to you before. Girl pops anattitude, you smile and move on. Life is too short," he reminded me. Tootrue.

"I'm going to put my hand over the blade," I toldĪtzpāpālōtl. "When I do, you can let go."

She didn't say anything for several seconds, even after my left hand coveredthe semi-serrated edge.

"Why should I trust you?" she sizzled.

"Because 'me' letting anything bad happen to you would make me a total,judgmental jerk. I don't know you. Whatever you did before you showed up todayshouldn't matter to me. I acted stupidly. I should have stopped you. I didn't.I didn't even warn you and I could have. I was angry, and not even at you. Justangry and I apologize. Now, let go."

"Why?"

"Hi. I'm Cáel Nyilas. Can I have my knife back? Please?"

Blink. She released it. For a millisecond, it wanted to do something elsebecause bitches are bitches. It didn't, so my palm wasn't sliced open. My righthand took the hilt. I carefully put the blade away.

"Yes," Theddy gulped.

"Huh?" Sovann shook his head at the sudden evaporation of the lifeand death tension. Welcome to my life. Theddy meant 'yes' to the'girl-girl-guy' thing I had proposed earlier. It pays to keep thingsprioritized.

"What is this movie you were talking about?"Ītzpāpālōtl asked. Had she forgiven me for anything whichhad transpired? Bwahahaha, no way. She was taking the initiative and going withOption 1 from my earlier insane diatribe.

"Wait!" Sovann nearly shouted. "You nearly, I don't know,threatened Cáel’s life and tried to stab Theddy and now you think you can gowith us to a movie?"

"I told you," Timothy put an arm around his shoulder, "life withCáel is rarely dull."

"I thought you meant he was fun to party with, or something likethat," Sovann looked up at his lover. "I thought his uncle showingup, and trying to kill him and then being blown the f*ck away by those womenand federal agents, and that other girl who pointed a gun at us, is this thenew normal?"

"I love you, Sovann," Timothy grew compassionate. "Cáel is mybest friend. He'd never deliberately hurt either of us and normal friends aresomething he has in short supply. Today being a great case in point."

Ten seconds passed.

"The title is 'As Above, So Below'," Sovann addressed theavatar, "and what do we call you?"

Since 'if you are not a worshiper and addressing me, I normally am about tokill you' would sound really cool in Olmec-ic, but I might be asked totranslate,

"How about we go with 'Obsidian', please?" I pleaded with her.

She knew I was currying favor now ~ and behaving like a weather vane caught inthe wall of a tornado ~ she gave a gracious bow of her head.

"Obsidian will do for now. Is the Legend of the dagger 'business'?"Translation: it had better not be.

"No," I smiled. "It's pillow talk." Rancor, 'howpresumptuous', followed by 'but that dagger ups the count to three Goddessinterested in him', and next to recalling all the trivial babble about me beinga sexual dynamo (I prayed my PR was that good) having some relevance. Her chimeraemotions allowed me to get a few more crucial words out, because even women whoaren't sleeping with me are jealous.

"Esta mujer fue laprimera en ofrecer bienes funerarios tras la muerte dee mi padre," Ireinserted Theddy back into my close company. For some reason, Obsidianconsidered me unreliable thus had to verify what I'd just said.

"Did you make funerary offering upon his father's passing?" she askedTheddy. Let's think about this. The wacko chick questioning Theddy had tried tostab a huge freaking blade into her not a minute ago. Fleeing in terror whilescreaming for the cops? Nope.

"Yes. I baked him some walnut and caramel chip cookies," she nodded."It is a family recipe." Sovann looked over the three of us, thenback to Timothy.

"I told you 'that's impressive co*cking like I've never seen before',"he explained.

"She may remain," Obsidian 'permitted'. Theddy wrapped up my right armwith her left and gave it a squeeze. She wanted attention/explanation.

"Obsidian is a Master Vampire, Theddy," I leaned in and whispered."Before she was turned, she was captured in a raid by the fey, mentally,spiritually and physically raped and made into their sex-slave. Part of herspirit never healed properly. While this imperfection allows her to walk aroundin daylight, her heart can never hold on to any emotion for long, so she isforced to forever seek passion, no matter how dangerous, from the world aroundher."

Revealing secrets? Ha. I had noticed Theddy had every work done by Laurel K.Hamilton in her place, including the comic book series.

"You are not supposed to know, so act like I didn't tell you anything,okay?"

'Okay,' she mouthed back at me. I could see it in her eyes. My chaotic lifesuddenly 'made sense' to her because a best-selling fiction author said so.

Obsidian thought the movie was; hilarious. She couldn't stop snickering,giggling and poking at me as horrible sh*t happened to the various actors. Shethought the plot was 'insightful' and wouldn't stop whispering to me throughoutthe entire thing. During the closing credits, I told her I'd get her the DVDfor Christmas ~ she knew the concept behind digital technology, but didn't ownany ~ she kissed me.

The first kiss was fierce and joyous with the added benefit of her tongue doingthings no normal tongue could do, it stretched. Not sure how I felt about that.The second kiss was more sultry, longer and came with some accompanying bodyaction which, I'm no virgin. Not even close. She was on my left side, so whenshe twisted in her seat, her left leg insinuated itself between mine. Her lefthand cupped my jaw and held my head in place as her lips played along mine.

A dance of the scorpion perhaps? Tender at first, then suddenly stabbing,dominant and brutal. My lips and tongue battled back, using my superior Kiss-futo nullify her natural strength and agility. She liked it. By her moaning, sheliked it a lot. As the kiss progressed, more and more of her flowed from herseat into my seat, body facing me. Her body rose over mine, forcing my neckback to maintain contact.

"So, Dot Ishara is hovering around somewhere close, isn't she?" Imurmured as our lips separated barely a centimeter apart. One chick kissing youto make another one jealous. It's happened to me plenty of times. Obsidiandidn't give a damn about Theddy, or any other mortal woman in close proximityso,

"Yes," she purred. "Do you mate with her?"

"A man does not brag of such things, but no, unless heavy pettingcounts?"

"What will she do to you when I steal your seed?"

'When'? Why was I not surprised? Why was I not surprised another concussion wasin my immediate future either? Was it possible I was, learning?

"Chastise me for not fighting harder," I breathed across her lips,"and, in case you forgot, I'm on a date with the girl beside me."

"Who I care nothing for," she sent a cruelly playful look Theddy'sway. Wisely, the girl shivered.

"Who I am indebted to and how I honor my debts might matter to you,"I hazarded. My words hurt Theddy's feelings. That was on purpose. Obsidian tookpleasure in me hurting Theddy because she was basically a vicious monster.

"Yes?" I pressed her gently.

"Yes," Obsidian allowed, easing up slightly both romantically andphysically.

"And Theddy, if you believe I'm with you solely because of some sense ofobligation, you clearly haven't been listening to your recordings," I shotthe human girl a wink.

"Oh."

"Am I, or am I not, a sex-obsessed little monkey?" I teased her.Theddy giggled. I paid for my diversion with four obsidian claws to my ribsoutside of Theddy's view. After all, it wasn't like Theddy could possiblycompete with her for my attention. Considering Obsidian's legendary ability torip open her opponent's ribcages and feast upon their hearts, I slipped my lefthand, the one next to her between her legs and stroked her cotton-slackscovered c*nt.

Theddy hugged my right arm and put her head against my shoulder. Not to beoutdone,

"

It turned out almost tobe okay. During the 2nd Betrayal, the Amazons betrayed SzelAnya and almostshort-circuited her plans by exterminating her lineage.

Except for the Arinniti elders and Bolu. Good old 'except'.

I can imagine when the Egyptians heard about the 2nd Betrayal, they figuredthey were 'okay'. Those wacky Amazons had inadvertently done the world a favor.Except an act of maternal love kept a slender hope of Illuyankamunus' returnalive. By the time the Egyptians realized they'd been prematurely hopeful,Bolu's descendants were all over the Balkans and hunting them down had provendifficult.

But, it gets worse. Much worse.

When those Gods shattered Illuyankamunus, they scattered him in the relativecertainty no one would ever gather the parts back together.

His flesh was scattered across the land, modern day Turkey, but encompassingeverything from Pakistan to Italy and Egypt to Poland. The flesh became soil,then plants, the things that eat plants, then food for humans. Get the picture.

Whoops. SzelAnya had been doing just that for centuries upon centuries everytime she mated with a mortal of Illuyankamunus' line and had offspring, theyaccumulated his energy, which made hunting down the few remaining ones easierto find, since they were 'beacons of badness', except...

There were two key pieces missing which SzelAnya could never get. After all,you would think burying them on the far side of the world would matter, right?

The 'breath of Illuyankamunus' ~ his cosmic fire ~ they buried in a volcano ina distant land far across the Great Sea. His spirit 'body' they imprisoned in agreat river, again, across the Great Sea.

But wait, it gets worse.

The being standing next to me knew precisely where the 'breath ofIlluyankamunus' was. Seems Mesoamerica is laced with volcanos. They'ddiscovered 'the breath' long ago and used it as a weapon called Xiuhcoatl.Better yet, Alal suspected she and her buddies were more than happy to reuniteit with the rest if they thought the Weave itself wouldn't annihilate them fordaring to do so.

In their current, weakened state they were vulnerable to such a karmicbacklash. In theory, a reborn Illuyankamunus would have access to power beyondthe bounds of the Weave, older and more terrifying. Still, without the mortalremains to anchor the energy, giving it to the spirit would be pointless.

Alal knew where the spirit body was (in general), but that wasn't the worstpart. The worst part was where it was,

Of all the places the Arinniti sons could have fled to, they had to chooseBrazil, the burial place of the restive spirit body of Illuyankamunus.Mother-f*cker.

And Ildiko 'Alkonyka' aka Dusk Lovasz had sworn she'd travel to Brazil tofulfill Bolu's side of the quest in the same way I was holding up Vranus' end.If I tried to stop her, SzelAnya would know something was up. f*ck.

I was processing all of this when Obsidian violently yanked me out of the way.A cabby had swerved to avoid a flurry of trash and nearly run over us. It wasthe third near-concussive experience in the past five minutes she'd help meavoid while she had walked by my side. I'd been mumbling like a madman.

"That would be my Goddess wanting to talk with me," I looked her way.

"I know," she gave me a clever smile.

"She's really not going to like that," I shook my head.

"I know that too," she kept smiling. "Where is your mind?"

"Five lives away from making the world a safer place," I sighed.

"Safer for who?" she purred. Where were all the bimbos? Not only wasit an insightful question, it cut straight to the heart of my dilemma.

What decision could I make? If I elected to help my fellow Amazons, I riskedscrewing with the world. In truth, I was risking everything even if I didnothing. Well Dad was always clear that things didn't change by themselves. Youneeded to do something that would have an effect. So,'What areyougoingto do?'

More to the point, I wasn't Grandad. Killing the last five of the line ofIlluyankamunus wasn't 'me', so it wasn't going to be something I'd worry about.

SzelAnya wanted to bring back her Dad, I could understand that. I'd have tofigure out a way for her to believe this world sticking around was moreimportant. How? Well, I had a goddess-like creature right in front of me toprobe for ideas.

"You are an immortal," Obsidian commented. She'd been weighing heropinion for some time. I could tell by the wonderment with which she giftedeach word.

"What? No. I can die."

"No. I don't think so. Your wounds. Normally the wounds I inflict flowfreely for some time. Yours have already scabbed over," her eyes flickeredto the various minor scars she'd imparted to me in the few hours we'd beentogether.

Of course, her idea was insane, Oh God No! I was in Grandad's body. Well Duh! Hisbody was supposed to be immortal.

"Are you sure?" I looked deep into her eyes.

"You are a young immortal, the youngest I've ever met, but you are animmortal," she seemed to be convincing herself as much as me.

Stupid Assumption (on my part)! I wasn't in Alal's body. I was in Cáel’s.Because the Cáel soul shard was young, Alal hadn't been able to find it becauseit had moved through Time, to me, sonofabitch! 'I' hadn't been around for himto find.No!I was making yet another damn assumption.

What did I know? When Pamela found Baraqu, it had been in an object, not aperson, though she had been short on details. When the Alal-shard went to theLand of the Endless Black Sands to bring Saku back, the Cáel-shard had been inreality, so it had been allowed to create a body, 'me'. Still, the curse SarratIrkalli placed on Baraqu was on Alal and myself as well, which meant I mightjust be immortal.

My Alal-mind agreed with Obsidian's assessment. In his first years, his healinghad been slow, still taking days for what took mortal people weeks. I'dstupidly attributed my swift recovery to Amazon medicines, ugh. Because I gotwounded more than most Security Detail trainees while concurrently entertainingtwo and three sex partners.

"Can you talk with Dot Ishara?" I asked her.

"Yes, but why would I?"

"Sex?"

"We are going to have sex anyway," she smiled. I'd tricked her. Sether up with the right so I could now drop her with the left.

"I can bring thembo

Back in theRamble

"Really expect me to believe," Nikita's mom was growling.

"Man down," I waved a weak arm skyward.

"Mr. Nyilas, what is going on here?" the Sergeant addressed me. I wasreclining in a circle of my 'Hounds'; most were kneeling. Chaz was in a tinybit of trouble for having clocked me.

"Umm, thanks for coming out and looking for me. I assure you, Mr. Tomorrowdid what he did as a matter of his professional duties ~ intelligencegathering." As I struggled to stand, my ladies helped me. I saw Pamelawith three Hounds coming up fast from one direction and Virginia with threemore coming from the other. The gang was all here.

The mutterings in non-English tongues suggested a bit of explaining was alreadygoing on.

"You've been bleeding," Nikita pointed out with an unspoken 'again'.

"This?" I pulled my shirt out and looked at the first bloodstain ofmy encounter. "This is the just the start of the bad news." I shed mywindbreaker and then t-shirt.

The professionals shouldered aside the others to take a closer look.

"All of these are from noon and less than an hour ago," I identifiedthe damage. Sarge was skeptical. Chaz, Nikita and Virginia less so.

"They look older," the senior lawman noted.

"I've been curious about that," Chaz frowned.

"I've inherited my Grandfather's curse. My soul fragment was in the 'Hereand Now' twenty-three years ago while his was, 'over there', so I was allowedto come into creation. According to my recently departed guest,"

"You are immortal," Virginia mumbled to finish the thought. Had thespeaker not been a member of the FBI, who knows how the thought would have beenreceived.

"From the memories I've been gifted with," I tapped the tiny divot onmy forehead, "his healing abilities started out rather slowly too. Icertainly don't want to test this theory, so no worries there," I scannedthe group.

"How do you explain seeing your Grandfather in Hungary and again inRome?" Virginia wondered.

"Again, that woman who just left," I got out.

"Was no woman," Nuray, another one of my Turkish Hounds interrupted."Her eyes..." she tried to explain, "and look what she did tothat tree," she pointed to the greatest piece of evidence of supernaturalwrongdoing. The other two witnesses nodded.

"We all saw the same thing. Her eyes were, bottomless, definitely nothuman," Belgin affirmed. The veteran players looked to Chaz.

"She had a collapsed nose-bridge, lacked a blink response, her dental workwas carnivorous and her tongue was extremely clipped and showed prehensilequalities," he reported calmly. Pause. Chaz was a freaking intelligenceoperative, after all.

"If her hands were a type of glove weaponry, I've never seen it