The Lyssa Kordenay Missions - Book 29 - Princes and Pirates

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Book 29 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
  A hurricane has hit the Caribbean forcing
  a delay in the wedding
  Now British Special Forces want a favor?

WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers.

 

 


 

Princes and Pirates

 
 
 
CHAPTER 1

Rodrick watched as Warlock came bounding out of the waves and shake off then lay down.

"VERBERGEN," he said loudly in german to take cover.

The dog leapt up and ran over to the nearest tree and lay beside it.

"Good boy, EINHALTEN," he commanded Warlock to follow and started jogging toward the hangars.

Warlock followed close on his right side then stood next to the door as Rodrick took station outside it. Rodrick swiveled in and began sweeping slowly around the wall then snapped his fingers and pointed to one of the amphibious planes.

"FORSCHEN Warlock! FORSCHEN," Rodrick gave the search command.

Warlock began sniffing around it then looked up at the wing sniffing and sat down growling low at it. Rodrick stepped in close and began searching visually, he moved his hand in the wrong direction too far and the belgian shepherd growled again directing him back. A moment later he pulled free a chunk of Semtex. Warlock growled again at it until Rodrick placed it into a ziploc bag and tucked it away then crouched down.

Rodrick praised him, "good boy warlock you found it."

Warlock woofed and sat still to be patted roughly.

"Where's Lyssa, boy? Finden Lyssa," Rodrick asked then walked out of the hangar.

Warlock ran to the main hangar and sniffed, yipped once and trotted inside sniffing then climbed the stairs and stood outside the office and yipped again.

Lyssa looked to the door and asked, "hast Du mich gefunden, did you find me Warlock?"

The dog barked twice in answer then looked behind him as Rodrick walked in.

"He found it again. good job boy," Rodrick said patting the dog's head as he passed.

"How'd he do with amphibious incursion," Kimberly asked.

"Like a pro,didn't you boy," Rodrick answered and after the responding bark tossed a biscuit that was caught easily.

Kimberly leaned down and poured water from her own bottle into the bowl on the floor and asked in german, "wasser?"

She watched as he came close and lapped at the water then look up and nudge her hand with his muzzle to be patted which she did. Lyssa held up a brush a minute later and he walked over for it.

Nobody really wanted to talk about why Lyssa and Rodrick were pissed off. The hurricane that came through the week prior had done enough damage to push back the wedding two weeks. Scheduling for all the guests pushed it back another two months. They had been a week from the wedding date when a tropical depression rapidly turned into a storm than became a category 3 hurricane. Grand Cayman took it hard it as did many of the islands in the Bahama chain. Ram's Rock had no serious damage as the hangars were reinforced and the trailers sat in between two of them.

"The last of the components will arrive tomorrow Rodrick," Kimberly said.

"cool, LoneStar is anxious to get the two drones complete. He thinks they'll reset the standard. Surveillance and attack capabilities at a lower price than the Predators," Rodrick replied.

"You two will make serious bank selling the design to DARPA," Kimberly said.

"hey now, let's not forget the computers and software, that's all you Kimberly," Lyssa reminded.

"I tinkered a bit," Kimberly admitted sheepishly.

"Tinkered my ass," LoneStar said walking in.

He took the empty chair across from her desk as Lyssa stood up and walked over to sit on Rodrick's lap. Warlock wandered over to LoneStar and sniffed at his gloved hand then boot.

LoneStar finally cracked his visor up and muttered,"its me."

Warlock seemed satisfied then and laid down beside Rodrick's desk.

"When is that mutt gonna give me a break Lyssa," LoneStar asked.

Lyssa shrugged, "he's got issues."

"Ain't we all," Pete said walking in and dropping a clipboard on the desktop, "That's the last of it. all aircraft serviced and ready, hangars are tiptop and the strip itself is good to go."

The dog perked up at the words 'good to go'.

"there's a week of hops we can alternate on but Paul put in a request. He asked starting day after tomorrow LoneStar fly the C-130 to Dallas and make three pick-ups at Love Field," Rodrick said.

"no sweat," LoneStar mumbled.

Rodrick answered the phone on its first ring putting it on speaker, "Hangar, go."

"hey boss," a younger voice spoke up.

"What's up Carl," he asked.

"Past couple of days there's been a bunch of royal marines runnin' around the big island here. Asking questions about who's who and what's what. Buddy mine says he saw an SAS guy running around the BoomBoom rooms too. Mean anything to you," the younger man asked.

Lyssa cut in, "Carl are any photographer types running around asking about charter boats for super-low rates?"

"Hey future Mrs. boss-chick, actually there's like..this real skeezy type one that has. No bones about it either, looking for the cheapest ride possible in the cheapest way too. Skeezer looks like he hasn't seen a shower in like....a week at least. name's Procton if that means anything to you," he answered.

Lyssa answered immediately, "it does Carl. He's a gossip writer for the Mirror in London. Takes sleazy to a whole new level, I mean nothing is sacred or off-limits to the guy."

"these Royal Marines Carl, are they clean cut or dirt-bags,"Rodrick asked.

Carl thought about it for a moment then came back with, "they're trying to be dirt-bags boss but they don't have it down. No bar-fights and called the bartender sir at The Plank. Twice."

Rodrick commented,"That's SBS Carl, not average Royal Marines. Keep your eyes and ears open."

"Will do boss," Carl disconnected.

Lyssa looked at Rodrick, "Special Boat Service and Special Air Service running recon and the sleaziest british tabloid writer all in Nassau at the same time. Know what that means...."

"Yep. One of the royals is gonna vacation, probably Branson's playground; Nekker Island," Rodrick answered then grabbed a walkie talkie, "Eddie. secure my bad boy."

He addressed the group at large, "There'll be at least one Polaris class attack sub patrolling the islands and they will investigate here. Don't know if they'll come ashore for a close look-see but they'll definitely scope the island."

They all nodded then went out to secure anything that would signal anything other than a private charter service.

~o~O~o~

Derek Procton laughed to himself. Having dirt on a Buckingham palace maid had its advantages, she'd heard the discussion of the Prince and his girlfriend finalizing plans to visit the Bahamas for a week long getaway and promptly informed him. They'd be arriving in four more days and he'd better find a way to Nekker island before they got there or he wouldn't be able to get near it. flying was out of the question because it was too obvious but a boat was another story. High resolution pictures of the royal and his squeeze probably naked or her at least topless would fetch a high price.

Only his publisher knew what he was up to and he'd never tell because the article would jump sales so high it would cost him more to run something else. Other tabloids would pay heavily to the Mirror for copies of the photos as well to run their own stories. He'd already spotted the MI-6 agents that had been brought in to investigate recent activity and a friend told him a platoon of SBS had been sent as well. Neither of those worried him, he'd get to the island before the Prince and be concealed to take photos.

Finally that afternoon he found a boat that would get him to Nekker Island. Three Haitians the captain named Bobo. The Rastafaries reeked of marijuana smoke and high proof rum. Probably the moonshine equivalent called Screech.

Bobo said, "yeah mon, we get you da island, problems no."

"Excellent my friend and I'll pay you half up front and the balance when we return. agreed," he asked.

"Irie, Irie whiteboy everyting be cool no," Bobo drawled.

"very cool. I'll get my things and be back in half an hour," Derek assured him.

Bobo watched the englishman leave.

One of the crewmen asked, "Mon what we want to help that bloodclotboy for?"

Bobo never took his eyes off the retreating man's back, "him gonna lead us to much green. Make well, guns is ready."

Bobo took the joint from his man and smoked it himself and said after holding in the smoke, "not long now and we be wildest dreams."


CHAPTER 2

Dannigan read the intercept again; SAS and SBS Operators along with handpicked low-profile MI-6 were all over Nassau according to the DIA station chief at the embassy.

Madison buzzed in, "Major, there's a Colonel Sean MacTaggart on the line, routed through your clean line."

Dannigan picked up, "what do you mean by calling me you great lush?"

A roar of laughter came from the other end, "Paul, your only redeeming quality is your fondness for a proper whiskey you mangy cur."

Dannigan laughed, "you didn't call just to tell me that; what's on your mind Sean? shades and suntan lotion?"

"Bloody hell Paul, do I even want to know how you became privy to my whereabouts," the grizzled scot asked.

Dannigan chuckled, "DIA made a couple of the lads. you need something?"

Sean answered, "Actually I do. A favor."

"Ask me," Dannigan replied.

"You know a place we can sit a couple of helos and a harrier or two for about a week," MacTaggart posed.

"Lemme guess, you want them a hop, skip and a jump away from Branson's place," Dannigan mused.

"Gah, you want the long and short of it don't you," the Scot groaned.

Dannigan commented snarkily, "hey, at least I didn't ask who for."

MacTaggard laughed at that, "probably because you already know."

"I'll be nice and not call you a glorified babysitter," Dannigan said smugly.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What don't you know," the Scottish Colonel groaned again.

"Put in a call to a Rodrick Mason, RamAir charters. Actually I have no idea if he'll say yes and if so; how much he'll charge you for it," Dannigan answered.

"Aye, thanks Paul," MacTaggard replied.

"Sean, one thing; Mason is an ex-SEAL. Be respectful of his property," Dannigan cautioned.

"How respectful," MacTaggart asked.

"Depends on the particular property," Dannigan said bluntly.

MacTaggard considered that for a moment then replied, "Aye. Will do."

After cradling the handset he buzzed Madison," Send a message to Kimberly; SAS asking favor. use own discretion. end message."

"Yes Sir," she called back.

~o~O~o~

Lyssa read over Kimberly's shoulder then grabbed the walkie talkie,"Rod. Dannigan sent a message, SAS is gonna ask a favor."

It took a a couple of minutes then he answered, "ok. I need to come back right now?"

Lyssa thought about it, "yeah. They could call anytime."

"ok gimme a....AH fUCK ....minute," he answered after a loud clang, "DIRTY COCK-BITE SONOFABITCH PIECE OF SHIT FUCKING WRENCH!"

Lyssa and Kimberly both chuckled and shook their heads.

Several minutes later Rodrick walked in drying his hands muttering about wrenches when the phone rang.

Absently he snatched it up and barked, "HANGAR! WHO WANTS TO KNOW? Oh. Sorry Colonel. No Sir its not a bad time. ok see you in half an hour."

Lyssa and Kimberly were trying hard to hold back giggles and not having much luck as he cradled the handset.

Rodrick grabbed the walkie talkie, "Star,Pete. secure the drones. SAS coming to visit. Eddie make sure my bad boy is locked up tight."

Kimberly remarked, "ooooh company coming. Think we're attired appropriately," gesturing at Lyssa's bikini as well as her own.

"Absolutely not. We should put on something sexy and revealing," Lyssa drawled casually then at Rodrick's side glance laughed.

"You know its a long flight back to Nassau. Even longer with a hard-on and those flight harnesses don't make it any more comfortable," Rodrick commented gaining more laughter from both women.

Lyssa walked over and kissed his cheek then reached into her bag and pulled out a elastic waist skirt and stepped into it. Kimberly reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a length of semi sheer material of a matching color of her swimsuit and tied it casually around her hips. They both then made a show of checking their hair and make-up prompting Rodrick to roll his eyes at them.

Thirty minutes later LoneStar called out from the tower, "Inbound helo on final approach. clear the pad."

The PaveLow bearing British markings flared then set down in front of Eddie who acted as a ground guide then powered down. Eddie moved in swiftly and placed chocks around the wheels, snapped two chains securing it to pad then waited for the blades to slow down enough to tether them as the flight crew disembarked along with three men in civilian attire. Eddie tethered the blades then walked up to the flight commander with a clipboard and began a post flight check after a quick salute. A broad chested man nodded in approval at the efficiency and professionalism of the ground-man's skills then pointed the other men to the main hangar as Rodrick stepped out to greet them while Lyssa and Kimberly stood at the doors waiting.

Colonel Sean MacTaggart was impressed. From the instant he and the rest of the flight heard the calm, almost icy, voice directing their approach to the quick reaction of the ground-man securing the helo as if on the flight-deck of a carrier there was nothing but military precision. Even the casual approach of the former SEAL suggested that there was always a disciplined bearing even in this civilian life.

The background info they'd quickly gathered on Rodrick Mason was an interesting read. He'd resigned his commission in the SEALs after an incident that the U.S.Navy wouldn't divulge but rumors abounded that it had to do with a superior going rogue and being wounded trying to bring him in by another teammate. Rumors also suggested that he still cooperated with the government by running the occasional black flight for them.

One thing that was eye catching wasn't a rumor; his engagement and impending marriage to the renowned Prima and model Lyssa Kordenay who had an incident not long ago in London herself with a serial killer. She'd somehow managed to free herself and then burned the sadist alive. Scotland Yard and MI-6 believed that Mason had passed a few trade tricks to her which wasn't a far-fetched guess. Speaking of, unless he was much mistaken that was her lingering in the doorway with another very attractive woman.

"Colonel MacTaggart....." Rodrick said with a quick salute before extending his hand.

"Aye. Thanks for seein' us on short notice," the gruff Scot said shaking hands then gestured to his companions, "Captain Mason; Major Jeremy Wells, SAS. Commander Bill McCloud, SBS."

"Tally-Ho Captain," Wells greeted him shaking hands.

"A pleasure to meet a fellow waterdog Captain. Hoo-yah I believe it is," the Royal Marine ventured then shook hands.

"C'mon inside gentlemen," Rodrick gestured.

They followed him inside the ground-level sitting area where the two women waited along with a dark haired man in cover-alls and one completely covered in flight gear and helmet visor down along with a solid black dog.

The three British officers acknowledged them quickly," Ladies. Gentlemen."

Pete and LoneStar didn't approach for introductions but silently nodded in greeting.

Lyssa offered, "Drinks gentlemen?"

The gruff Scot answered, "a whiskey would darlin' of ya Miss."

Wells answered casually, "I see Skyy vodka don't I?"

The SBS commander asked, "any Cuervo by chance?"

Lyssa poured the drinks and passed them over with a smile then sat on the arm of Rodrick's chair.

"So gentlemen, what brings you out," Rodrick asked.

MacTaggard explained, "an old friend referred you to us. We're going to be pulling some temporary duty in the area and would like to position some equipment and personnel here. You'd be compensated of course Captain."

"And you came to me because I'm only forty miles from Nekker Island and have the necessary strip for landing heavy transport and jets of course," Rodrick said casually.

MacTaggard didn't waste time or words, "precisely. Three PaveLows, four harriers and a heavy transport; C-130 to be specific and a portable hanger for maintenance housing. We'll provide our own fuel and etc."

Rodrick wrote on a pad of paper then folded the sheet into a paper glider and tossed it to the big Scot," Can do?"

MacTaggard glanced at it then folded it and tucked it into his shirt pocket, "Aye. That's a fine figure Captain."

"The cove at the eastern end of the runway is deep enough for your Polaris to loiter the edge and the shoreline all the way around measures seventeen miles and is easily run on foot for PT. Also I have a cigarette class boat you can use for discreet dive ops Commander McCloud," Rodrick added.

"Now that's what puts us in business Captain," McCloud replied with a grin.

"All we need now is a range with kill-house and we'd have a home away from mate," Major Wells commented with a chuckle.

"Range is easy enough, can set up at the southern shore. A kill-house is a stretch though, sorry boys," Pete said.

"Well now we wouldn't object to a bit of roughing it. The lads will be more than thrilled with this stationing. Most accomodating," MacTaggart surmised with nods from the major and commander.

"We'll make daily ferries to Nassau but can up that if need be to twice daily in a civilian helo," Rodrick offered.

"An afternoon flight would be fine by us," MacTaggart said after some thought.

Rodrick walked over and held out his hand, "then we have an agreement with the understanding of respect and privacy..."

MacTaggard shook the proffered hand, "Aye. We do and a fine thing. Heavy will come in early tomorrow afternoon and the others the following morning."

"Works for us Colonel," Rodrick said then called out over the walkie talkie, "Eddie. They're ready. Spin 'em up."

"Aye aye boss," came the reply.

The turbines could be heard firing up as Rodrick walked them out holding Lyssa's hand.

As they exchanged good-byes Major Wells regarded Lyssa, "Ms.Kordenay, saw your performance at Royal Albert Hall. Marvelous to say the least."

Lyssa smiled, "very kind of you to say Major. I'm glad you enjoyed it, thank you. now that you mention it; Marissa Addams will be in a production there next month. If you've the time it would be a show to see."

"A talented lass," McCloud asked.

"Very. She's Hawaiian, studied under me at Bolshoi for a little while," Lyssa answered with pride.

Wells smiled, "Ah then she must be something to see indeed."

"I should see about ticket for m'self then on your recommendation Ms.Kordenay," the big Scot commented.

"you should Colonel," Rodrick said.

The British officers nodded their affirmations then embarked the PaveLow which immediately took off and sped toward the main Island after receiving a heading from LoneStar in the tower.


CHAPTER 3

Procton set off in the small raft from the Haitians' boat after midnight. Two miles wouldn't be a problem and he'd still have time to hide before sunrise. Bobo assured him that they'd not forget to pick him up in seven days at the same place. For fours day he stayed in his hiding place and was happy as he could be for the last two days. To say the pictures he was taking were X-rated
would be putting it mildly. He'd taken enough pictures to fill six rolls of film on the second afternoon alone. He'd make a fortune off this trip, maybe even retire on the pay. Three more nights and he'd meet up with them and hurry back for a flight to London.

He'd seen the helicopters daily but they wouldn't find him, he was very well hidden. He'd been careful to bury his debris so nothing would give him away except maybe his smell from not bathing recently but that wouldn't matter. He'd shower at a hotel before leaving for London. He was snapping away happily at the royal couple frolicking naked in the surf after spending the night on a blanket on the beach when four dark men surged from the grass-line brandishing assault rifles.

Procton zoomed in and saw to his horror its was Bobo and his crew. The very same Haitians that dropped him off and were supposed to pick him up in three nights! He began to panic now. Nobody but the Haitians and his publisher knew he was on the island. The Haitians might kill him and his publisher would never tell. He watched as they began to herd them back to the main buildings.

~o~O~o~

Prince Henry of Wales' mind went to light speed as the gunmen erupted from the surrounding foliage. Quickly he depressed the concealed button on his watch then yanked off the pendant around his neck and swallowed the capsule inside. The watch set off a distress signal burst good for a one hundred mile radius and the capsule was a radiological tracker good for four days. Now it was up to the teams set out to watchdog to come rescue him and his girlfriend.

He had specifically instructed her before they left London to never say who they were to anybody or they'd kill her first as an example.

"yeh boy. Sure be a dead mon walkin' unless we be paid for you whiteboy and the bloodclot girlfriend," One yelled prodding him roughly with the barrel of a rifle.

They began walking them back to the main house. Harry set his jaw and prayed the girl could keep her mouth shut as well to keep them both alive.

~o~O~o~

"Inbound helo; Bahamian patrol. CLEAR THE PAD," LoneStar called out over the loudspeakers.

He'd been running the air operations since the arrival of the British aircraft with Rodrick being their dive boss, Eddie on ground control, Pete as the safety officer and Kimberly working logistics. Lyssa made the daily ferry run to Nassau in the Bell helo in the afternoons. The British personnel quickly afforded them all the respect deserved after just a few moments into their briefing after arrival. They weren't aware of LoneStar's true identity as he'd been quickly dubbed BlackStar but never the less sat up straighter during his daily briefing of their flight patterns and protocols.

The SBS detachment never gave Rodrick any grief as he was not only a local but also a SEAL with reputation to proceed him. Kimberly's efficiency left them all staggered at which she would have all their necessary documents processed and all intel ready before briefings. Pete ran all ground services with Marine Corps rigidness including the ranges. Eddie's carrier experience shined through during the landing and take-off cycles and they had no problem with him assuming Flight-line command.

Rodrick and the team commanders along with LoneStar ran out to meet the Bahamians.

"Mr. Mason we found a Haitian boat loitering twenty-five miles between here and Nekker Island. Only one man aboard. That boat is owned by a known pirate/smuggler named Bobo," the pilot informed him.

Klaxon sirens went off three times then Kimberly's voice came over the speakers," Emergency! Emergency! We have a distress signal activated! All personnel scramble!"

Men and women bolted from everywhere heading for the main hangar and the briefing room. The Bahamian flight crew joined them. Kimberly and Lyssa rushed down the stairs with Warlock hot on their heels and sat beside the first empty chair.

Kimberly began, "two minutes ago the distress signal went hot. Pinpoint; this beach."

She indicated on the map of the island.

"The secondary burst went off just now and the principle is moving inland. no immediate imagery available. Current aircraft on station is overflying the island now. I'll have whatever imagery can be relayed in four minutes," Kimberly stepped back then went back up to the office.

Rodrick stepped forward, "We maybe dealing with local pirates. A known vessel under command of one was spotted in the area without captain and main bulk of crew. Pete will fly the amphibious team in with the chinook for a helicast offshore of initial position. Lyssa and Warlock will join Major Wells' team landing close to the main house and clearing it."

"Captain. No offense to yourself and especially your future Mrs. but wouldn't it be better if she stayed behind and just lent us the dog sir," one of the SAS troopers asked.

"Give the dog a command soldier," Lyssa said flatly.

He looked over and said in German, "Warlock; anreisen."

Warlock never took his eyes off the front or even acknowledged he'd been spoken to.

The trooper walked over, stood ten feet in front of him and commanded again, "Warlock. Anreisen."

Warlock immediately crouched low and snarled once very softly. Everyone in the room froze and went silent.

Wells spoke softly, "Sergeant back away slowly. That dog is about to attack and its a killer."

"Warlock. ENTSPANNT, good boy," Lyssa gave the stand down command in German.

Rodrick looked over, "I think that ends the grab-ass session. Lyssa goes, she can take care of herself."

"BOOTS AND SADDLES," LoneStar called out, dismissing the session.

Out of Instinct everyone snapped to attention and saluted then ran out.

~o~O~o~

Up in the office Kimberly turned as Lyssa walked in.

"Hey. How are you going to pull this one off," Kimberly asked.

Lyssa stripped down to her panties and pulled on socks and a pair of jeans, "same way porcupines get laid; fucking carefully."

Kimberly watched as Lyssa pulled a thin strapped t-shirt over her head then strapped on a ballistic vest.

"Hate these. They rub my boobs raw," Lyssa griped.

A single pistol rig went around her waist with one of her Jericho pistols in the holster. One of Rodrick's spare dive-knives clipped to the left side and the Marauder was slid into the sheath at the back of her thigh. Lyssa tied the laces of a pair of athletic shoes and pulled her hair back into a ponytail held with an elastic band.

"Pray nobody gets really stupid Kim," Lyssa growled walking back out.

Everybody geared up fast and were in the air within fifteen minutes. Launched by LoneStar the helicopters headed directly south while the harriers went west then south to overfly the island.


CHAPTER 4

Prince Henry, afftectionately called Harry, sat quietly still naked; as was his girlfriend as the Haitians argued about who to call for a ransom when he barely heard the first overflight by a harrier. The gunmen didn't hear the distant jet but he knew that incoming forces would be on the island soon if not already. Shortly thereafter he saw four dark specks in the distance separate and dip low.

Under his breath he muttered to her, "no matter what tell them nothing. Help is coming."

She gave him a very subtle nod. The house staff had already been briefed by the SAS knew to keep silent and not cooperate. Now to sit, be patient and wait for the cavalry to ride in.

"None dees bloodclot talk Mon! How we be green if nobody say who give da money," one of the Haitians asked Bobo.

"Worry none, they talk soon and then the call we be making to get payback. Its all Irie," Bobo answered then turned to the naked girl,"No one be come girl. Righteous you ours now. Who be missing you whitegirl? Tell us or your fate be dread for certain, no?"

Nichola closed her eyes and prayed to herself that the Prince was right and help was coming. She was very embarrassed to be naked in front of strangers to begin with and even more so in front of these gun carrying men. this was supposed to be a very safe place which was the only reason she'd relented and took off her swimsuit but now she knew that safety was a relative term and used very loosely. She'd seen the Prince take off the pendant around his neck and possibly swallow something quickly but other than that she had only his word that help was coming and she was getting more scared by the minute. It wouldn't be long before the violent men started looking at her more as possible entertainment than just a hostage for ransom. Again she prayed inside her mind for help to come quickly.

~o~O~o~

The SAS contingent flew in low and fast then hovered. The first man out rappelled down quickly followed by the rest. Lyssa hooked up Warlock's special vest and after he was on the ground hooked herself in and bailed out sliding forward down the rope to the teams astonishment landing surely and unclipped herself. Quickly they moved toward the main house with Warlock leading the way.

At the edge of the lawn they looked across and saw Rodrick and the SBS team. Lyssa turned on Warlock's camera and speaker. Quietly she commanded him to approach the house and circle around it. Doors were thrown open as they usually were to allow the breezes through for cooling so Warlock had an unhindered view and access. Slowly they crept closer and staged at the walls. A minute later Warlock found everyone gathered in the main sitting room. the team leaders watched on two small view screens what
the camera showed as the Belgian shepherd prowled.

Quickly and quietly Wells coordinated with McCloud and Rodrick a three-pronged entry then moved the teams out. Lyssa directed Warlock closer to target who she believed to be the lead gunman and had him hold position as she moved as well.

Rodrick called out over the comms, "entry on my mark. Three. Two. One. Go!"

Two DefTec-25 grenades went off inside the main room at once and Lyssa yelled over the speaker in German,"WARLOCK! VERNICHTEN!"

SAS troopers and the SBS swimmers spun in fast and low, carefully avoiding crossfire and began ripping the Haitian gunners apart with auto-fire as a black streak all but flew into one of the gunners snarling, bringing him down then clamped down on his neck cutting short the man's scream.

The Prince grabbed his girlfriend and dove to the floor to cover her with his own body shielding her.

"CLEAR WHITE TWELVE," bellowed Major Wells.

"CLEAR GREEN THREE," echoed Commander McCloud.

"CLEAR RED NINE," Rodrick called out.

"CLEAR BLACK SIX," Lyssa yelled.

"ALL CLEAR," Wells finalized.

"WARLOCK! ZURECKSETZEN," Lyssa ordered him to back off.

She walked over and looked down at the Haitian choking and gurgling from having his throat savaged by the Belgian shepherd. Warlock hovered over him still growling.

"Warlock ZURUCK! good boy," she commanded then roughly patted him when he returned to her side, "AUBEN. Come on."

He followed her out then lapped at the water she poured from a canteen to rinse out his mouth from the blood. He stopped and turned to face into the breeze and growled once.

"What is it? Was? Bad guy; Gegner," she asked and got a single woof in answer.

She turned and ran upwind, "Find 'em Warlock....SUCHEN GEGNER."

Warlock yipped once then bounded through the tall grass running for the path leading to the cliff house.

Lyssa followed behind occasionally calling out in German, "good boy Warlock...SUCHEN GEGNER."

The shepherd would growl occasionally then cut back and forth across the wind zeroing in on the scent that caught his attention.

~o~O~o~

Derek Procton couldn't believe it. A Royal frolic turned hostage crisis and rescue and he had it all on camera. All he had to do was find a way off the island but first he'd hide until the commandos left with the Prince and his girlfriend then nobody would pay attention to a boat theft to get him back to the main island. The sudden appearance of a very large and vicious looking black dog in front of him on the path stopped him cold.

"Nice doggie....nice...you be a good lad there and let me on by. I promise a steak rare...a T-bone," he tried to smile.

The smile widened as a blonde holding a black pistol emerged from the brush.

"Oh dear me...Lyssa Kordenay...the ballerina and model? This just keeps getting better," he was all but wetting himself with excitement.

"Stumbled onto one of the biggest secrets there is Procton," She said taking off her sunglasses to reveal steel grey eyes.

Procton giggled uncontrollably but stopped when Lyssa closed in leading with the Jericho.

"I'm a known journalist Lyssa and my publisher knows I'm here. Can't touch me. Story of the millennium! Prince on naked frolic gets taken hostage and who does his rescuer turn out to be but the world renowned ballerina Lyssa Kordenay," he said smugly thoroughly pleased with himself.

"One catch though 'Daring Derek'," Lyssa said.

"What's that Lyssa 'the Legend'," he asked with a smirk.

"Ghost Legend actually is what they call me in the ballet world. You're under the assumption there are rules somebody can impose on me. That I'm like them," Lyssa stated implying the British units.

Derek giggled, "this is marvelous! I'll be on my way."

"Yes you will. Past the gates; before the devil's throne. I've been to Hell. enjoy your trip there," Lyssa said without blinking.

She thumbed the hammer back and pulled the trigger twice sending the modified rounds through the man's face, blasting his head apart. She then searched him for film and memory cards. Lyssa pulled four from him along with the one from the camera then shoved his body over the cliff-side to fall into the sea.

"Bon voyage you evil, self-serving, egotistical son of a bitch. Come on Warlock, We've definitely made the world a cleaner place today. Gehorchen," Lyssa said coldly.

The Belgian shepherd followed along side her wagging his tail happily. He was happy. His handler understood what he needed and gave it to him; he was doing what he was trained to do. Warlock didn't understand he was a dog, he only understood he was a soldier. Two legged soldiers looked different from each other, just as he looked different from them. In his uncomplicated mind, life was great.

~o~O~o~

Colonel MacTaggart stood on the tarmac behind the Prince and his girlfriend.

The young royal addressed Rodrick,Lyssa,Pete,LoneStar, Kimberly, Carl and Eddie, "you all have my profound thanks for all you've done for the Crown."

"Our pleasure Highness but we do ask that it never be spoken of. Officially or unofficially," Rodrick asked, "I have a reputation to protect.

"Some of us get a fair amount of attention as it is your Highness," Lyssa added.

"Quite right Miss Kordenay, but I do insist on something though. If you'd gentlemen take a knee," he said with a smile.

Rodrick,LoneStar, Pete and Eddie knelt down and the Prince pulled MacTaggart's saber and tapped each one on the shoulder.

"I dub thee, Sirs Edward, Peter, Carl and Joseph. Knights: Order of the Black Shield. You Rodrick Mason; Lord of the Order," Prince Henry declared.

He then took Lyssa's hand and kissed it then Kimberly's, "Lyssa and Kimberly: Lady and Shield Maiden of the Order. This Order is available only through The youngest Prince, recognized only by the British Crown and no one else. This honor and favor is earned only by combat in the name of the Crown. Our many thanks to you all."

They all bowed or curtsied to the Prince.

"Also. I look forward to receiving an invitation to the upcoming wedding; Lord and soon to be Lady Mason," he said with a wink.

The British couple turned and boarded the private jet, followed closely by the three officers after an exchange of salutes and handshakes.

As they watched the plane fly north Lyssa turned to Rodrick with a smile, "So My Lord; shall we go home and finish plans for the wedding?"

He scooped her up and carried her toward his own plane, "but of course M'lady we've still got lots to do."

They both laughed as did the others then took off for Grand Cayman.
 
 
 

Lyssa Kordenay Returns in The Butterfly Bride!!!

 
 
 
*author's note- there is no Order of the Black Shield. Also certain operational and geographic elements are intentionally inaccurate.

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So, the world is less one more self-serving scumbag.....

D. Eden's picture

Oh yeah, and the pirates too!

Warlock like me knows that Doug MacArthur was wrong - old soldiers don't fade away; they keep soldiering on until one day they finally meet their fate. They can retire you, but they can't change you.

Lyssa keeps getting closer and closer to her secret coming out. It's a good thing she has a lot of very good friends to watch over her.

This wasn't quite what I expected, but still just as good. I guess I've gotten so used to Lyssa being the pointy end of the stick that it was a little unexpected to see her basically take a supporting role - but as stated so eloquently, she had to do this one fucking carefully. Funny how that word has always felt wrong when I use it......

I guess a little of my mother's ideals of how a lady comports herself did manage to sink in to me - even if she meant it for my sister. It sure didn't work on my sister, lol. Maybe she'll be happy to know that her newest daughter absorbed it.

Anyway, another good story Hon - and I can't wait for the wedding. Royal wedding guests, huh?

Dallas

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

UK Polaris programme

Sorry to be a killjoy, but a Polaris submarine is not an attack system. I bring this up because I worked with these machines fresh out of college. All the sub are old enough to buy liquor. Very neat craft in their time.

According to Wikipedia, the Astute class is what you are talking about.

Thanks for another great Lyssa adventure

Carla

"May you live in Interesting Times" is a promise, not a threat!

you overlooked something

Alecia Snowfall's picture

I have a disclaimer at the end of this installment, please go back a read it. thank you

quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall

Very True

Very True -- the Author is always Right!!!!

"May you live in Interesting Times" is a promise, not a threat!

Besides I try to see it as an alternative timeline thingy

I mean really, when was the last time one has heard that blokes like this 'journalist' would be using film instead of a digital camera? Unless he is verrrrrrry old fashioned. Film is great for certain things, don't get me wrong but for this kind of thing a digital camera is preferred, as long as he has a solar charger to keep his camera battery charged. This would be the only reason to use film, it is possible to take pictures without needing a source of power other than the meter battery in it (if it has one.)

Film

WillowD's picture

The story just says he took enough pictures to fill 6 rolls of film. It doesn't say he was actually using film. And by any chance to people still use phrases like "caught on film" when they mean caught on camera? As a hobby I have helped create a number of independent films. Many of them are feature length. We still use terms like "in the can" (the film is stored in metal cans and ready for developing), "roll them" (roll the camera film), "speed" (the reels of film are now rolling at the correct speed and we can start "filming" the action), etc.

Polaris was first deployed during the 1960's.....

D. Eden's picture

My father was an aerospace engineer on the program, on loan from the fledgling Apollo program.

It was in fact replaced by the Poseidon system - not the Trident. Trident replaced Poseidon at a later date.

Also, many SSN's now carry ballistic nuclear missiles in vertical launch tubes. They are the same tubes used to house and launch non-nuclear missiles, but as per policy, the US Navy will never confirm or deny which of it's vessels are actually carrying nuclear weapons at any given time.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Missions don't always come up

Missions don't always come up and knock on your door in a manner that allows for performing them at night; so Lyssa was very correct in her response to Kimberly's question regarding how she was going to do this one. Being daylight, face painting or mission makeup would not easily work, plus all the SAS/SBS personnel already knew who she was.
Her not taking the lead role or going off on her own, was a good thing in my opinion. She was able to convince them that she knew things by being associated with Rodrick and Pete, so just that would throw them off from her true abilities.
Plus, when she "offed" the dirtbag reporter, I got the impression if was just her, him, and the dog there; so no-one else even knows about that incident.
All good; and it all ended well, except for the Haitian pirates/crooks and the reporter who is now "sleeping with the fishes". "Good Dog, Warlock", "Down boy, here's some chew toys for you."
I really hope that Lyssa and Rod have a quiet wedding and don't have to undertake a mission when in the middle of it or just at the end of the wedding.

well done Janice

Alecia Snowfall's picture

Well done Janice you got it right! and yes, when she took out the reporter it was just her, him and Warlock. Rodrick understands that Warlock will work with him to a degree but prefers Lyssa as she was the first one of the group he met and therefore attached himself to her. In short, Warlock understands he belongs to Lyssa. *hugs for Janice*

quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall

Once again.

wolfjess7's picture

Once again Snowfall has shown her cerative imagination when it comes to story telling. Well written and very entertaning. As always she is abler to put together the right amount of fact with fiction to forge a solid story line without overpowering the plot line. Can say enough good things about Snowfall's writing.

May the peace and happiness of the Goddess keep and protect you
as always your humble outlaw
Jessie Wolf

A less lethal alternative

Even though I visualize salamander whenever I think of papparazzi (spelling?) and I kick myself for insulting the salamander, the man is not a killer (physical killer that is) that I know of. Lyssa needs something less lethal in her arsenal to deal with this kind of thing as I feel an execution is not suitable for this kind of thing.

less than lethal alternative?

I think that brings us to the questions... "How lethal is knowledge?" and "How important is it that the public not learn of the secrets of Lyssa's agency and/ or herself?"

In real life I have seen similar sentences carried out without trial and, hopefully, without any civil notice.
This is not a bad thing but frequently is necessary for reasons of "National Security".
Yes, blowing Lyssa's "cover" would certainly have National Security implications. Thus, an execution to protect certain "National Interests"..

Anesidora

Lyssa's R.O.E.s

Alecia Snowfall's picture

While Lyssa does have R.O.E.s (Rules Of Engagement) one thing is certain. only the Lone Ranger 'shoots the guns out of their hands and brings them in for justice' all the time. Lyssa ain't the Lone Ranger. When she knows her information is non-secure she HAS to take action. Less than lethal can be an option from time to time but keep in mind; Lyssa isn't the police, she is primarily a soldier. In the immortal words of a Navy SEAL I've read; kill people and break stuff.

quidquid sum ego, et omnia mea semper; Ego me.
alecia Snowfall

He takes sleazy to a whole new level.

It is pretty clear that Procton does a lot of damage, and has no scruples. He was prepared to blow her cover and trash the reputation of the royal family and a young woman. How many other lives had he ruined? it does not seem that Lyssa was unduly harsh. She just took care of the trash. The character of Lyssa is not of a sweet young person trapped in the wrong body type of story.Every chapter carries a disclaimer re: violence. This is how I would expect her to react.

I am wondering what number Rodrick gave to the colonel. My bet is zero.

can't get enough of the Lyssa

can't get enough of the Lyssa mission stories.
the so called reporter got what he deserved he didn't really seem to care that the prince got kidnapped except how it might affect him, such as they might kill him and the fact that it get him more money for the pictures he probably wouldn't have cared if one of them had been killed as it would have increased circulation

Yeah!!!

Way to go. Saving the royal. :)